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tarosin · 3 years

Text

The great adventures of y/n, Tommy, Jack and Tubbo

Requested:yes/no

Pairing: Platonic jack/tommy/tubbo/reader

Summary: another day another adventure

Content warning: cursing / I didn't proof read

An: reader has bright unnatural hair I wrote a lot, I can't figure out how to add read more on mobile I'm sorry

The music you were currently listening to was interrupted by the discord group notifying you that you have a new message.

Tommy: Y/N HOW BUSY ARE YOU TUBBO HAS COME TO VISIT AND JACK IS HERE

y/n: I mean I've currently got hair dye on but it’s being washed off and dried in around 20 minutes, why?

y/n: WAIT TUBBO?!?!

tubbo: oh yeah I forgot to tell you

y/n: how did you forget you know what nevermind, I’m glad you’re here :]

jack: we should be here in an hour so you have plenty of time to get ready

tubbo: what colour dye y/n

y/n: you’ll see soon enough as apparently, you’re all showing up at my house

Tommy: I suggest you wear comfortable shoes

y/n: I am terrified

Tommy: you have nothing to fear... for now

•••

luckily it had only taken you just over 40 minutes to get ready giving you roughly 20 minutes to prepare for the adventure ahead. or so you thought, as soon as you sat down ready to check your phone the sound of Tommy and tubbo laughing could be heard from your room, jack sent a message “hey we got here extremely early I’m sorry there’s no rush the others have been distracted by dreams music :)”

grabbing a backpack from next to your bed you had quickly chucked your phone and purse into the bag unsure as to what you’re going to need today.

•••

as soon as you opened the door you were met with an ecstatic tubbo who instantly pulled you into a hug unable to contain their excitement of seeing their friend

“I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN AGES YOUVE CHANGED SO MUCH LOOK AT YOUR HAIR”

“I look exactly the same”

“Now I’m no genius y/n but last time we spoke you didn’t have unnatural hair”

you paused for a moment as tubbo had a point the last time you and tubbo were on face time your hair was classed as a natural colour however today as a fuck you to your school which didn’t allow unnatural hair you decided to dye it your favourite colour.

“you raise a fair point now if you don’t mind releasing me from your grasp I have to lock the door so no one gets in”

•••

“Tommy unlock the door let tubbo and y/n in”

“Y/N YOU'RE HERE- HOLY SHIT YOUR HAIR! JACK ARE YOU SEEING THIS”

“Hello to you too Tommy”

“well if we weren’t going to get noticed at the shopping centre earlier y/ns bright fucking hair will definitely cause people to notice us”

“oh I’m sorry I didn’t expect to be going shopping with a bunch of Minecraft streamers today”

“don’t you stream Minecraft?”

“This isn’t about me jack”

the trip to the shops was surprisingly relaxing y/n sat at the front listening to jack sing along to songs playing on the radio, however, it was clear the boys had something they weren’t telling y/n which became evident through Tommy and tubbo bickering in the back of the car about who was going to tell them. it was a relatively short journey due to the fact you lived close to the city centre

•••

“let’s go shopping boys” Tommy practically yelled to everyone, tubbo held his phone in your direction then looked towards you, nodding at him you grabbed his phone and began recording

“I'm vlogging”

Tommy walked over “YEAHHHHH”

walking past cex you had to put up with Tommy making sex jokes until you made it to game, you stood holding back your laugh as you filmed Tommy and tubbo fighting about who’s paying whilst jack went off to buy a Minecraft squishy and mug despite everyone’s arguments against it. soon enough fans came over asking for photos with you all once the group of fans left jack took over recording for tubbo whilst you went off to quickly buy some games that you could play on stream.

•••

“want a wig bro? jack!”

the four of you walked into the shop, you couldn’t help but stand in awe looking at all the bright colours already questioning what colour to dye your hair next the sound of Tommy and jack being amazed pulled you out of your thoughts

“Gogy goggles, I’m actually buying them”

“i wan’t a pair”

“no, you’re getting a wig jack”

“I don’t want a wig I want George”

“y/n has bright hair and they’re not complaining”

“what do you have against people with colourful hair jack hmm?”

•••

“I'm not happy”

“you look lovely jack”

“we’re getting so many looks”

tubbo stopped everyone to ‘fix’ jacks wig which resulted in everyone laughing once you had finally stopped laughing you noticed tubbo had walked off and you were convinced jack had randomly decided to record strangers until you saw tubbo going up and down escalators

“oh there he goes again”

“pov you’re thinking about bees”

“where to next boys?”

Tommy pointed towards the lift

“Is this a lift for us”

Tommy noticed the safety sign and automatically made comments about it

“keeping us all safe is what I would say if I wasn’t carrying a knife”

“oh same Tommy”

“look you can see me”

taking that as an invitation to join the vlog you stood behind tubbo and pointed at the sign again and looked at Tommy and jack

“keeping us all safe is what I would say if we weren’t about to do this-“

the three of you went to jump up and down

“NO”

the four of you quietly left the lift however you were convinced that the public heard Tommy comment on having a knife and you threatening to jump as once the lift opened everyone was staring at you but it could also be due to the fact you had brightly coloured hair and somehow convinced jack to keep the wig on, you all spent a long time trying to convince Tommy to get a new outfit, eventually you went into another shop a certain keyboard caught your eye

“I’ve found my home, ill stay here at the gamer bunker”

you decided now was the perfect time to sneak off to buy the keyboard that had caught your eye, once tubbo noticed it was too late you stood holding the bag with your purchase leaving you stood in the middle of the shop defending your purchase to him claiming that it was a business expense and not just because you thought it looked cool.

“you told me you wanted to save your money”

“it lights up tubbo and it fits the vibe of my room”

Tommy placed his arm on your head treating you as an armrest as you were shorter than him and he knew it annoyed you

“they have a point tubbo it lights up”

once the recording ended you made your way back to the car

“say y/n you wouldn’t mind if me Tommy and jack stayed the night as tomorrow we were thinking-“

“sure thing”

“YESSSSSS”

•••

the next day you were woken up at 9 am by Tommy stood at the foot of your bed

“hi y/n”

“WHAT THE FUCK- oh hi Tommy Jesus christ do you know how horrifying that was to wake up to”

“Sorry bout that but if I didn’t wake you up now you’d only wake up in the afternoon and we need to go soon I’ll leave you to get ready”

you noticed a note was next to a jumper on the floor ‘hi, thanks for letting us stay the night I really liked your hoodie so I decided to wear it today here’s mine in exchange- Tubbo :D’

normally you’d be concerned that someone stole your hoodie as you live with your parents however today was an exception once you were all ready you set off jack pulled into a McDonald's drive-through so you could all get breakfast

“nice hoodie y/n”

“Thanks, someone took mine and decided to make a trade”

“you’re welcome”

the journey was quiet again you sat next to tubbo in the back Tommy sat at the front screaming at jack and trying to distract him and people around you decided to took a picture with tubbo who now had his arm wrapped around you as it was rather cold in the car and posted it to Twitter ‘@ ranboosaysstuff wish you were here :D’ less than a minute later you received 2 notifications ‘ranboosaysstuff replied to your tweet: same’ ‘ ranboosaysstuff has tweeted: *the spongebob gif*’

•••

soon enough you all arrived at mint golf to say you we’re excited would be an understatement

“can I get the shortest club you have”

you stood hiding your face in the jumper tubbo left you whilst you laughed a few minutes later you received a call from ranboo the others said they’d sort everything for you whilst you answered

“what’s up tall one”

“stay safe okay”

“ranboo it’s mini-golf I’m not fighting criminals”

“yes but I know how clumsy you are”

“first of all rude second of all fuck you third of all jealousy isn’t a good look on you” you managed to say through laughter

“jokes aside please come to the UK boo”

“oh sure I’ll go book a plane ticket now” *ranboo ended the call*

ranboo made jokes like that before however this time sounded a lot more serious and you had no idea why he called you so you made a mental note to call him again later. once with friends again you were met with Tommy telling the worker all about you all

“yeah we’re big on the influencing”

“What on earth did I walk in on”

“no time to explain let’s go golf”

you were handed a club and a ball and were dragged away by jack

•••

tubbo joked about getting a hole on one as soon as it was his go, you bet £10 with jack he wouldn't

“hand over the money y/n”

you looked at Tommy who was now recording you handing jack the money “so today we have learnt to not underestimate your friends and that gambling is bad. you lose your money to a tall bald guy”

to put it politely you and Tommy found out that mini golf is not your calling in life

“ill stick to streaming“

“you’re both losing by the way”

“yeah well- why and how does tubbo have soup”

tubbo stood cradling the soup as though it was a child

“Some things I can’t explain to you”

you stood tilting your head to the side questioning where the hell he got soup from

“eh”

“soups like a small child I take care of it as if it was my own”

you couldn’t contain your laughter at this point the confused faces of your friends alongside tubbos happiness of soup sent you over the edge so you decided to just sit down before you fall as your knees were already weak from laughing too much

“where did you get the soup from”

“I manifested it”

•••

after a few solid minutes of arguing over soup you and Tommy dropping the phone you all continued with bowling.

“tubbo get out of the way of my dream ball”

you stood recording jack cheering him on tubbo had different plans and kicked the ball away resulting in jack giving up and copying what you had been doing most of the rounds, after missing the hole 3 times each go, picking up the ball and placing it in the hole however again he missed

“you can’t be serious”

“golf isn’t for everyone big man”

Tommy took the phone from you to record “pov you’re me golfing”

•••

“how do we get across there”

“probably the bridge”

Tommy pulled to rope moving the bridge across the gap

“Why thank you, Tommy, wouldn’t have been able to do it without you”

you laughed

“you're extremely welcome y/n it was extremely easy because I’m a big muscly man”

golf was finally going well till you hit the ball a bit too hard causing it to go over the fence tubbo was able to get the ball back

“I’ve been watching a lot of doctor shows” you stood amazed at how far you made the ball go

“see the issue is its mini golf. if this was regular golf I'd have got a hole in one I'm telling you”

•••

“I'm never being in your vlog again”

jack looked at you and tubbo who was now laughing at you pretending to worship the can of soup in the hole

“Tommy please come back”

the rest of the game was chaos, you kept missing the hole then claiming to rage quit golf tubbo and Tommy kept making jokes jack left his drink somewhere then had to go back and find it, no one had been paying attention to you which allowed you to take the score sheet and make it so you had won the game eventually he game was over you had declared yourself the champion of golf despite the fact everyone was better than you including Tommy

•••

the journey back was chaos you called ranboo who claimed he only called you to plan a video/stream with you however it was clear that wasn’t the reason tubbo whispered to you so no one could hear

“I think he wants to be here with us I think he’s jealous”

you laughed and nodded

“of course”

eventually, you all made it back to yours, ranboo said goodbye to everyone then ended the call now it was time for you to say your goodbyes. since your love language was physical touch you hugged everyone. As you walked into your house Tommy yelled “Y/N HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT PLANES”

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skinnyducky · 3 years

Text

excuse me, i love you // v.h.

requested by @thatmultifandomlovingmf

a/n i hope this lives up to your expectation ! i had an idea prior to writing this and i thought it would be nice to sort of mingle the two ! sorry, if this wasn’t what you wanted ! and also same, i still don’t know my ff terms that well either :D

Word Count: 1535, edited

WARNING: fluff, language, fluff.. and more fluff.

---------

Vinnie and you were chilling in his room, lying on his bed. Well, at least he was chilling. You were cuddled into his side and fast asleep—college will do that to you. He took this chance to admire you. He truly loved everything about you, and it made him think: how was he so fortunate to have someone like you? Sure, you’d been best friends for a long time, but that didn’t mean anything—at least to him it didn’t. This thought danced around in his mind, and he recalled back to the event that started your relationship…

Two years ago…

It was a Friday night and Vinnie was sitting in his room, scrolling through Instagram and liking whatever random photos popped up on his feed. This wasn’t how he typically spent his Friday nights. Normally he’d be with his best friend, you. However, due to a series of unfortunate events—aka Jackson Dougland asking you out on a date—he was left to his own devices.

As he sat at the edge of his bed, he wandered why him? What made Jackson Dougland so great that you actually entertained going on a date with him? He was just your average dimwit who cared more about his sport achievements than anything else. You deserved better than someone who was just going to use you as a trophy; you deserved Vinnie—or at least that’s what he thought.

Vinnie was unsure of when and why he started to develop a crush on you. Maybe it was because you’re the only girl who really understood him, maybe it was because you’ve been best friends for years, or it could be from the fact that you appeared in every one of his dreams—and that includes the nightmares with Elmo. There was just something about you that made his love for you shift from platonic to romantic, and he had no clue why. He couldn’t tell you that though. For one, it’d be embarrassing if you rejected him. And two, he couldn’t bare to risk your friendship. So, he thought it’d be better to conceal his feelings than to let them pour out.

As he mindlessly stared at his phone, he heard a slight tap at the window. He fell into confusion as he looked over to see nothing there. Shrugging it off, he went back to looking at the small screen in his hands, but once again, there was a tap at the window.

“What the hell?” Vinnie muttered to himself, getting up and going to check out the ruckus. He opened the window and stuck his head out, finding no sign of where the tapping could’ve come from. That was until he was hit in the face with a pebble.

“OUCH, dammit!” He shouted as he rubbed his throbbing cheek. He looked down to see who the culprit was, only to find you standing there. “Y/n? What the hell?”

“Sorry,” you sighed. Vinnie noticed something different about your demeanor. Normally you were happy and cheery, but right now you were the complete opposite, from the slight frown on your face to your hunched stature.

“Can I come in?”

Vinnie nodded and rushed downstairs to open the door for you. Letting you in, he led the two of you back upstairs and into his room. Once you were inside, he shut the door and watched as you plopped down face-first on his bed.

“What’re you doing here?” Vinnie asked, leaning against the door. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your date with Dougland?”

You let out a groan and sat up, looking your best friend in the eye. “I was, but then I found out he had other motives.”

“What do you mean by ‘other motives’?”

“He didn’t really wanna go out with me. He was just using me for sex.” You said, fiddling with your thumbs. “I was just another notch on his belt; another girl he could brag about getting with to his buddies.”

Vinnie frowned as he sat next to you. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“It’s like, why me? What did I do to deserve this?”

“Completely nothing.”

“I thought he was so sweet. He went on and on about how we were gonna go to homecoming together, and that he wanted to spend the rest of high school with me. But come to find out, it was nothing but lies.”

“I know, I know.” Vinnie sighed. He hated seeing you down, especially in this instance. You deserved nothing but complete happiness, and the fact that someone came along and ruined that for you, it pained him. “You don’t deserve that.”

“Maybe I do,” You replied, your voice breaking. “Maybe this was a sign that love isn’t for me.”

Vinnie shook his head as he looked at you. “Now, Y/n.”

You groaned, “It’s the truth. Think about it, no guy has ever shown interest in me before, and if they have, they’re either like Jackson or they’re in middle school.”

“That’s a lie and you know it.”

“No, it’s not. I’m just gonna have to face the facts: I’m meant to be alone.”

“Y/n-“

“I should’ve known better.”

“Y/n-“

“Nobody would ever want me.”

Vinnie growled, getting up from beside you. “There are people who want you, Y/n! You’re just too blind to see it!”

You scoffed. “Oh yeah, and who might that be? And if you say one of your baseball boys, I swear to god-“

“Me, Y/n…it’s me.”

You finally stopped your yapping and sat there in shock. Vinnie felt at peace, glad that he was able to get you to calm down. However, that peace was disrupted once he soon realized what he had said. “Oh, shit.” He mumbled to himself, although it was loud enough for you to hear.

“What’d you just say?”

“Oh shit.” He repeated, though he knew what you were referring to.

“Not that, idiot, what you said before that.”

He sighed, sitting back down. “Fine. I said that I want you. And before you go off the rails, I truly meant what I said. I don’t know when I started having feelings for you, but I do know that they’re strong. I get that we’ve been best friends for a while and it’s weird, but I just can’t help the way I feel for you.”

“Vinnie, I-“

“I completely understand if you don’t feel the same, I don’t expect you to.”

“Vin-“

“Just promise me that we can still be friends. I don’t know what I’d do without-“

Before he could finish his sentence, you smashed your lips against his. He was taken aback; so many thoughts were roaming around in his head which was nearly on the verge of combusting. When you pulled back, the two of you looked into each other’s eyes for a good minute.

“Wow.” He breathed, causing you to laugh. “I was not expecting that.”

“I could tell.” You grinned. “Do you really mean all of that…all of what you said?”

He nodded. “Of course, I do, Y/n. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it. I care about you, and it sucks to hear you go on and on about not finding someone when I’m right here, someone who wants to be with you for you and not for your body or anything. I love you, like so fucking much.”

A smile crept onto your face as your hands found their way to the back of Vinnie’s neck. “You are absolutely too pure for this world, Vin.”

The boy laughed keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “I honestly don’t know what to say. No one has ever said something that sweet and meaningful to me. Maybe it’s because you’re my best friend but hearing it from you feels ten times better.” You smiled. “You mean a lot to me, Vinnie. The fact that I mean that much to you, it’s sweet.”

“This feels like a friendzone speech.” Vinnie said as his shoulders fell.

“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I was planning on friendzoning you.” You chuckled, stroking his head. “I really wanna try this out.”

“You mean like…you for real wanna go out? This isn’t for play-play?”

“Yeah. I feel like we’ve always been a couple. It just took some maturing, a moment of weakness, and one of us to say something for us to figure it out. And now, since we’ve figured it out…I think we should try and see where it goes.”

Vinnie gulped, “But what if it doesn’t work out? I don’t wanna lose you, Y/n.”

“And you won’t.” You reassured. “We’ve been in each other’s lives far to long to just walk out. I have no intention of leaving anytime soon.”

“If that’s the case, then I guess all that’s left to ask is…Y/n, do you want to go out with me?”

“Yes, Vinnie. I would love to go out with you.”

Flashback over…

As the scene left Vinnie’s head, he couldn’t help but grin. Two years ago, he would’ve never thought being with you would be possible. But here he was together with you. He had all he could ask for.

And he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie x reader #vinnie hacker imagine

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warmau · 3 years

Text

summer is supposed to be a time of happiness, of adventure and goofing around under the constant sunlight

and so when you start summer, you are all smiles and big dreams! unfiltered energy to do whatever you want!

and whatever you want is definitely

NOT spending even a day (actually three) in the hospital after you end up falling off your bike and breaking your ankle like the absolute unlucky person that you are

"that is so gnarly dude, my condolences"

chenle mutters, skateboard under hand and shaking his head

jisung nods in agreement beside him - still wearing his helmet even after your nurse gives him a look about it

"hey, at least you're getting all this free candy?"

jaemin motions, picking up a 'get better soon' box filled with chocolates from your uncle

he pops one in his mouth and haechan swats his hand away before he can steal any more

mark sighs and gives you a sad smile, renjun puts the flowers they all bought together in a vase by your bed

it's all a little too much - and you tell them it's fine, it's just an ankle and you'll be out of here in no time

they all agree, except for jeno who is sitting at the foot of your bed with his volleyball uniform still on and his duffel bag between his legs on the floor

you keep throwing glances his way because you have never seen jeno so quiet in your life

mark - who is the brains of your friend group (oddly enough) - catches the looks of worry

so he does what any good friend would do, he tells all the remaining members he saw a machine with snacks out in the hall and they all excuse themselves with 'see you soon!'s' out of your hospital room

jeno doesn't move a muscle

"how was practice? jaemin looks happy so im guessing you guys are going to be in great shape when school starts again?"

there isn't any response and jeno is almost hidden with the way his head is hanging low and his hands are clasped on his knees

"jeno-"

"it's my fault you're in here."

you puff your cheeks and cross your legs

"oh please! it's my own fault! is that why you're acting all sad?"

he doesn't answer and the lack of communication is making you nervous more than it is making you angry

jeno and you are close, to the point of knowing each other's parents by their first names and who your first kisses were back in middle school

he has never been one to lack the words for a conversation - at least not with you

you wish you could scoot closer and pinch his cheek or poke his forehead

but your cast is restricting movement and these days touching jeno feels......different

"i should have stopped you before you went down that hill, i was there and i couldn't save you-"

"jeno, im not made of glass and plus im not even that hurt!"

he finally shifts so he can look at your leg, propped up on the pillow and covered in its cast that has been brightly decorated with signatures and doodles

the way his gaze travels up your hospital gown and to you, you know he isn't registering anything you're saying

you sit up a little and hide the wince behind another set of promises to jeno that you are ok and you don't need him to blame himself when he has so much more going on on his plate

"you and jaemin are going to graduate after the upcoming semester and that means it's your last year with the volleyball team. you should focus on practice and being the best you can be - when i can get myself up on those crutches ill come visit to see how you guys are doing!"

he seems to soften, the sharp angles of his face that have just gotten more handsome as he ages still somehow manage to look sweet and youthful

he picks his duffel bag up off the floor and leans toward you like he's going to push some hair from your face or kiss your forehead

he's done both before - but this is the first time the gesture has made the blood in your veins stop and something imaginary clog in the back of your throat

instead of doing either jeno seems to buffer as he hovers above you, reaching out to fluff the edge of your pillow

"ok, but also you have to be serious about your recovery."

he pulls back and the same concern as before washes over him, his vocal tone lowers

"don't go doing anything dangerous."

you point to your cast with a half-smile

"i don't think that's going to be possible."

you get discharged from the hospital the next day, not that it brightens your summer any further, you basically just end up trading the hospital bed for the four walls of your own room

the group chat explodes with more well wishes

but you change the subject, all the pity makes you cringe

'how was volleyball practice?'

several people start typing - except for jeno

jaemin's reply comes first, 'it was good!'

followed by jisung's, 'but.....jeno didn't show up...'

renjun adds 'he said he wasn't feeling well - don't worry!'

you furrow your eyebrows

'has anyone visited him? does he need medicine?'

haechan texts something before anyone can really stop him, 'im pretty sure he's just being sad - if he had the stomach flu we all be sick. we eat together everyday.'

'haechan!' mark replies as jaemin sends a shaking his head emoji

'wait. jeno is sad?'

it goes silent and then suddenly jeno is typing

'im not sad, im fine. ill be at practice tomorrow.'

you let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding in

it's only natural that you, as jeno's friend, would be worried about him. at least, that's what you tell yourself.

to be honest - now that you're not out enjoying summer - you're more than ever stuck with your own thoughts and the most recent string of them is: what changed between you and jeno?

for years it had been easy going fun, the simple enjoyment of each others company

but ever since it started getting warm enough for t-shirts - there has been a shift in the central point of you and jeno's friendship

you are suddenly hyper-aware of how strong the outline of his arms looks.

you notice when he wears different cologne.

you see the way other people turn their heads to look at him when he walks by, the way they pick up on the handsome features that make up your best friend

and you can't help but feel something cruel and cold fester in the pit of your stomach when you think jeno might one day look back at that stranger ..... and notice their features too

you sit up, which is a mistake because you shift your foot and it makes you yelp, but you look at your phone again

the gc has moved onto topics of video games so you message jeno outside of it

'hey, if something is wrong you can tell me'

he reads the message and doesn't reply. you tell yourself that's totally fine.

a couple of weeks pass before anyone lets you limp out of the house by yourself

you've mastered crutches and when you really need something, one of your friends delivers it

although recently, it seems to be everyone but jeno

everything otherwise seems normal

no one really talks about volleyball - which is fine, you just assume they're busy practicing

and so you hobble down to the school gym that's still open for the student-athletes during the break and are secretly happy to bump into mark who helps you with the stairs

"by the way, don't be upset with him ok."

mark says before you enter the gym - you look at him with a raised eyebrow

"upset with who?"

mark swallows - just tilts his head and when you go inside you look everywhere, you see everyone, but you don't see jeno

"im guessing he isn't in the locker rooms?"

you ask mark with a deflated tone of voice, mark shakes his head

"he hasn't been to practice at all."

you can understand why no one had told you.

like mark said, they knew you'd get on his case about it - which is what you plan on doing when you end up on his front porch

jeno comes down with messy hair and basketball shorts on. he's not wearing a shirt and immediately you think you lose the ability to speak

"you shouldn't be walking around just yet."

he says and you frown

"it's been a while now, plus im not here about me. im here to ask what you think you're doing."

jeno crosses his arms and you hate the involuntary flex of his muscles.

actually, you don't hate it, you hate that you stare when you don't mean to.

he ushers you into the backyard and motions for you to sit on one of the patio chairs

he's still being the same thoughtful guy you grew up with but you're beyond confused

"are you quitting volleyball - why aren't you going to practice?"

"im not quitting. i just don't feel like it - i don't feel like doing anything."

you reach out with one of your crutches to poke him, he makes a face

"im the one with a broken ankle - im the one who gets to be depressed. c'mon, tell me what's really wrong."

jeno falls silent, you notice that he hasn't completely shaved and there's a bit of a shadow on his jawline

you swallow the sudden dryness in your throat

this is your best friend since you were kids. you are literally not going to think anything but pure thoughts from now on. ok. stop. don't you dare.

"that's the thing. you have a broken ankle, you can't even go to the beach and im supposed to do what - enjoy the summer without my best friend?"

he throws his hands up and you see an expression you barely ever get from jeno form on his face

"i could have stopped you from being reckless, i could have made sure you weren't in that stupid cast and that you could-"

"jeno!"

you cut him off and he looks at you, the momentary distraction of your newfound attraction to him dissipates as you grind your teeth

"i told you that it's no way your fault i got hurt - plus it's not like you personally broke my ankle and im not suffering torturous pain. things happen like this in life - don't beat yourself up about it!"

you wish you could get up to make your point, but the best you manage is a shaky lift grabbing onto your chair

jeno gets up to help you but you shoo him away

"it hurts me more to see you moping around on my behalf! did you think about that, how it would make me feel to hear that my injury is making you slack on the things you like?!"

he blinks and you suddenly feel a rush of different things

one is that you hate how he seems to be so full of pity for you, another is that you hate how he's kind of right about this summer being pointless now that you can barely move, but the last is that because of all these things happening you can't even properly wrap your head around the fact that you think you like him

and not in the platonic way you'd been beating on liking him your whole life

so to add this to the pile - you take your crutches and give him a stern look

"just start going to practice. i told you when i was in the hospital, i'll always come to cheer you on when i can. that doesn't change for me, broken ankle or not because you're my best friend and i want to see you succeed."

and i love you

you don't say the last part, you bite your lip back and although you can't storm off in your usual fiery passion, you make it out of his backyard and let a heaviness fall off your chest as you somehow manage to get back home

the sound of messages incoming on your phone are drowned away by your tiredness

i just want to be a source of happiness for you, i never wanted to be your burden jeno.

the next day there's a knock on your bedroom door - you tell them to come in and go wide-eyed when you see jeno there

he's in his volleyball uniform and he's holding something in his hands

"jen-"

"im sorry. you were right, i can't use you as an excuse to be lazy anymore. i brought these."

he hands you the tupperware of cookies and you are about to ask him if he made these when jeno's familiar, warm laughter fills your room

"i didn't make them, they're chipsahoy but i thought the gesture could count."

you look down at them - he's so silly.

you look back up at jeno's smile - i really love him.

"good. now go have fun at practice, ill visit you guys later in the week."

he comes closer to you and suddenly the air in the room stills, he leans over and you think you can feel the temperature of your skin rise to an unsafe level when he hooks his pinkie with yours

"promise?"

you nod and he disappears with a wave. you sit in your bed and hold the cookies.

maybe breaking my ankle and not spending every minute around him might actually have been a good thing.

as you promised, you show up to practice at the end of the week.

jeno is there and he lights up when he sees you, helps you with your crutches and everyone gathers around to tell you how thankful they are that you went and got jeno to comeback

jisung randomly sputters a, "the only person who can control him is you. it's like he's your boyfriend."

mark catches the look on your face before jeno does and flicks jisung on the head, "what do you know about dating - c'mon lets go get water for everyone."

the comment swims around your head for the entire time you're there - and you don't know it, but it swims around jeno's as well

when practice is over, jaemin offers to drive everyone home - no one agrees because they're probably terrified of his driving

and jeno says he'll be the one to walk you home

it's nothing unusual, you've been with jeno throughout your whole childhood, but there seems to be a weird pause among your group when he announces it

when you and him set off toward your house, mark does something weird - he winks at you and you take a second before

oh - he knows i like jeno doesn't he?

you can only go at the of the equivalent of snail's pace, and jeno matches it without complaint

you don't say anything and it makes it that much harder to distract the chanting about how good he looks and how you can't believe you're that person who fell in love with their best friend and how this summer is so confusing its almost vomit-inducing and-

"hey, would it be weird if i liked you?"

it feels like the earth itself has been dropped from the shoulders of atlas, you think suddenly all the gravity has gone and disappeared

you stop and look at jeno who sets his bag down on the asphalt

the boy you met when you were young is suddenly not a boy anymore, his shadow is tall and mature against the setting summer sun

"liked me?"

he scratches the back of his neck and then nods

"i had said i can't use your injury as my excuse to be lazy. i actually wasn't being lazy, i was just going through a hard time because i thought i had hurt the person most important to me in the world."

your heart thumps against your chest so hard it kind of hurts

"me?"

"yeah, and i realized your friend can be the most important person in the world - but i think it's different the way i feel about now......i like you."

"i love you."

you blurt it out before you can even really stop yourself, jeno looks shocked for about a second before it breaks into a big smile on his face

the one you haven't seen in what seems like forever, the one that feels genuine and right

"oh cool, i actually love you too - i just didn't know if i should say it-"

"can you come over here and kiss me, these crutches are kind of making it hard for me."

no one is surprised when you and jeno announce in the gc that you're going on your first date

mark tries to act it, but literally everyone is like finally - you do ask mark if he knew all along about how you felt and he goes i knew how you felt and how jeno felt. you two are open books.

the date isn't as thrilling as you both might have wanted, the broken ankle is still kind of getting in the way, so jeno takes you out to the lake and does all the rowing himself

you offer, since it's your hands, but he insists he can do it himself and he does. seriously, he's way stronger than you remember him being a year ago.

you guys eat on the grass when you get back and he effortlessly picks you back up onto your feet, you swoon everytime but try not to show it

and when jeno drops you off - he kisses you again, and this time he doesn't have to have you tell him to - he picks the perfect moment

being his best friend and dating him doesn't change too much, it's just you're now holding hands everytime you hangout and you're kissing in the back of jaemin's car much to his disappointment and well

it's just made everything easier - you're not wrapped in your head about what's different, because nothing is, you just are honest with how you both feel

jeno and jaemin even get visited by scouts for volleyball and when jeno tells you about it you try to jump up to hug him and he's like bABE CAST but too late you're like OW and he's like oh god oh god let me hold you

you're like jeno let's learn to bake cookies for real so we don't have to buy chipsahoy to give each other and he's down for it but then you both almost set the kitchen on fire and call renjun like ten times to ask about the recipe and basically you are both banned from baking again

your cast gets filled in with hearts from jeno...you let him lay his head on you when he's playing games on his phone and you're like watching him play and when you get bored you're like let's kiss instead

jeno leaves all his hoodies 'accidentally' over at your house because he knows you like wearing them but won't admit it outloud

the summer continues on until suddenly it's colder outside and the reality of school coming back dawns on everyone

and also, you get the date for when your cast will be removed

jeno asks if you're going to keep it once it gets cracked - you say you might, you woulnd't want to lose all those cute hearts he scribbled on them and he just smiles and kisses your forehead

"i'd scribble all the hearts everywhere for you."

"that's cute, we should save that for when we get married."

and you do save it for then - years later when you're showing jeno the design on your invitations

beside both your names is a cluster of different hearts, all doodled by jeno himself

"how'd you get these?"

"kept a part of my broken cast."

he stares at you with wide eyes

"im joking, i got them off a napkin you doodled on when we were at dinner."

jeno pokes his tongue out at you and you giggle as he wraps his arms around your waist as to not let you get away

the softness of your love and silliness of your friendship is still there

it'll always be there - through all the broken ankles, casts, and doodled hearts to come.

#weeeeeee now i only have two neos left #nct dream au #jeno au #nct dream scenarios #jeno scenarios #nct dream imagines #jeno imagines #lee jeno #nct dream #sfw #nostalgia au #nct dream x reader #jeno x reader

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kyberphilosopher · 3 years

Text

Hiss

[Part ii. of Bite] Jason’s been resurrected, only to find he’s been replaced as Robin. Luckily, an old enemy of the Batman has the attributes to help. Word Count: 6465

Warning[s]: guns, crime, language, crude humor, Mitski, non vegetarian reader, age gap, glorified taskmaster ally. Following part i the readers official gender is not disclosed.

“Uh, Jason? We might wanna let god fix it, because if we fix it, we’re going to jail.”

☈ - ✮ ✭ ✮

Six months. That’s how long it took for Jason to die. Six. Whole. Months. In an abandoned warehouse, in some foreign country that he couldn’t even remember. He’d been fifteen, small for his age but fifteen nonetheless, when that clown had beat him. And what had Batman done? Nothing. He’d let him sit in that warehouse, in that foreign country, with that clown at age fifteen- for six months. And he had done nothing.

Not that it really matters now. It had, at one point, to Jason. He’s in denial that it still does. But to Batman? Oh, it never mattered at all. How long had it taken Bruce to replace his son? A week? A month? No, it had been six months. Barely. And the clown? He was safe and sound, very much alive and loose as he usually was. Batman had put him in Arkham, after a while, but of course it hadn’t lasted for very long. Jason’s death? That was permanent. At least until there was a new and improved and very much replaced Jason running with Batman, six months later. That was permanent too.

So one can imagine the confusion you felt when you opened the door to find a very much alive ex-Robin on your apartment doorstep.

201 Arkham Street, apartment 317 Gotham City, Gotham County, New Jersey

That’s the address given to him by the Riddler. Putting him in Arkham seemed to be one thing that the Batman had got done during Jason’s little time away. Clearly it had ended up well enough for at least one person. Jason hadn’t even needed to threaten the Riddler out of riddling. In less than ten minutes, Edward Nygma had revealed the Mockingbird’s address, who they like and don’t like, what their suit was made of, and finally their name. Batman had always assumed Riddler and Mockingbird were best friends, birds of a feather with all the times the they’d seemed to make some kind of appearance by the others side. Some friend Riddler was now.

Jason had snuck into the Batcave recently, and while going through files, decided to take a glimpse into Mockingbird’s just for the sake of curiosity. He wasn’t expecting much. When he was fifteen, it had been near empty. But sure enough, the file had been expanded upon relatively greatly in the past- what? Four years? That sounded right. But one thing that hadn’t changed was your seemingly long standing friendship with Edward Nygma, the Riddler. Still, so much for it.

Batman had seemingly made a note of allies of theirs, then crossed out multiple names. Poison Ivy, Bane, Deadshot- and yes- the Riddler, stayed. Scarecrow, Black Mask, and Catwoman were all shockingly crossed out. Jason hadn’t expected the last one. Below the allies were the list of crimes. That had changed too. They’d gotten more violent towards the end of the list, straying away from the Mockingbird that the ex-Robin had known. Mockingbird had picked a fight with Dick’s Nightwing enough times for Batman to make a note of too. Before Jason could get to the new pictures of Mockingbird, he quickly closed the file. Didn’t need to see anymore.

So based on what he had gathered, you should’ve looked different. He’d memorized your face when he was fifteen. Was expecting it to have changed compared to then. But when you open the door and Jason’s face to face with you, Mockingbird, it’s like the first time. Only your eyebrows have gotten slightly darker, and your eyes have rung with dark circles.

✮ ✭ ✮

The same can’t be said for Jason Todd, however, who you let into your apartment rather quickly.

You’d done your research on him, too, but only after you’d heard about his death. A death which was confirmed. After locking the door and beginning to turn around, he answers the question before you can ask.

“Superboy and Lazarus Pits.”

“Ah,” you respond, crossing your arms. The man stands tall in your living room, though it’s not forced. You’ve got no idea what a Lazarus Pit is, but it seems to have changed the Robin you knew before. He was scrawny before. He puffed his chest out before. He had something to prove before. Now his broad shoulders make him look bigger naturally. He could reach up and touch your ceiling with no effort. His face and jaw are masculine and strong, eyes bright green and blue and cyan like you remember. That’s how you know it’s Jason Todd.

“It’s because of the power struggle, isn’t it?” says Harley beside you as you both look over the side of the roof, her flat on her belly and you crouched on the ledge in watch.

“Hm?” you’d tossed back through your voice changer, not even looking away from the busy street below.

“Jay killed the Robin,” Harley chirps. “You know- Batman’s little boyfriend? In the shorts and the tights with the flips and the kicks? Oh, that kid went bing, bang, boom. Jay’s been real pumped about it.”

This had made you turn to Harley Quinn. You looked at her over your shoulder, still in position. Though you hadn’t thought about it at the time, it was a good thing she couldn’t see through your mask right about now.

“The kid?” you say at last.

“Yeah! Jason Todd! Ya’ know him?”

Harley doesn’t look at you, bubbly as ever in her own world. But you watch her for a moment. Then you turn back around to the direction of the street. “No.”

“Well I’m sayin I bet that’s why there’s so much crime goin’ on now. Old Batty’s got it...”

“I heard,” you tell Jason, before he can go into further detail. He nods once in understanding, in line with a breath, and then looks around the room. Your apartment is small, seemingly in decay, and looks like a shithole. Just like the rest of the building.

“Mockingbird, I presume,” he offers finally. “Y/N L/N was it?”

You nod once, holding your gaze at the ground in thought before taking a step toward your kitchen. It’s close by to the living room. So close, in fact, that your island counter practically touches the back of your couch. “Robin,” you greet in turn.

“My name’s Ja-”

“I know what your name is.”

Just then a sprinkle of dust falls from your ceiling, mixing with dirt and shit and pollen. “Nice place,” Jason condescends.

“I’m sorry,” you put your hands on your counter as you lean in to look at him. “Weren’t you under the ground not too long ago?”

“Weren’t you in jail not too long ago?”

“I never went to jail.”

“But your buddy Ed did didn’t he?”

Your eyebrows crease, and Jason notices you lean forward a fraction of an inch more. He got to you. “How do you know about Edward?”

Jason Todd gives a small smile. His right hand reaches up until it’s poking the side of his head a few times. “Bat knowledge.”

You frown tightly. “Don’t do that. I didn’t like that.”

“You like beating up Dick Grayson?”

You shift. “Yeah. I did.”

“And Catwoman? Huh?”

“Yeah,” you say a little louder. “I did. What wonder boy? You wanna see the scar to prove it?”

“Okay,” Jason huffs. He closes his eyes, his jaw clenching, and then he speaks softer to control himself. “Okay. I’m not Boy Wonder anymore, or wonder boy. Don’t call me that.”

You look him up and down. His eyes, his jaw, his brows. The Robin you knew those years ago. He’d been beaten and blown up. He must’ve cried for help.

“Okay,” you say, equally as soft. “But just for the record, I haven’t been the Mockingbird for years. Can’t really call me that either.”

“Why not?” Jason Todd questions, turning around so his back faces you while he observes your apartment. You can see his muscles through his shirt.

Because you were just a kid. Because I liked you. Because you didn’t deserve it. Because Batman didn’t help. Because you were replaced. Because most of my friends laughed it off. Because I couldn’t go after Joker myself. Because I got angry.

“Just grew out of it,” you shrug instead, turning around. You open your dirty fridge and pull out a bottle of lemonade and two glasses. “What are you doing here, Jason?” you say as you pour the drink, your back now turned to him.

“I need your help.”

“Whatever with?”

“I’m thinking of getting a little...” Jason’s voice goes low into something like a masculine purr, “...revenge on Batman.”

“You came back from the dead,” you turn around with two glasses of lemonade, “to get revenge on the Batman? That’s your great plan?”

“No,” Jason says simply. He’s since turned around so he’s facing you. “Screwing with the Batman is just a piece of the fun. He’s nothing.”

Jason accepts the glass that you hand to him. You sit down on your couch in front of his figure. That simple motion is enough to bring out some more dust from your walls. “So what’s the revenge?” you take a sip of the sweet, gritty liquid. It coats your teeth strangely in seconds.

“New Robin. Ever heard of Tim Drake?”

You stop your sip, looking up at the big, broad Jason. You can already tell where this is going. “Uh, Jason? We might wanna let god fix it, because if we fix it, we’re going to jail.”

His brows shoot up. “You hit me in the face with a pipe.”

“I didn’t hit you. You walked into my swing. But you wanna go after the kid, Jason? Really?”

“Yeah.” He crosses his arms so his forearms flex.

“Tim Drake?”

“Yeah.”

You roll your eyes in thought. On one hand, you hadn’t been Mockingbird for years. You stopped when you were eighteen, and you’re twenty one now. Not that it’s helped you very much. You’re still struggling in a shithole, broke and unhappy and no longer able to afford school. And Tim Drake hasn’t really done anything wrong. But on the other hand, Batman is a dick, and you really stopped liking him after what happened to the former Robin. You’d wanted to go after him and the Joker for it, but you’re not far enough in the Gotham food chain for that. Trading swings with Selina was as close as you got.

“Alright.” You stand. You’re not even close to Jason’s height. “Lay out the deal. You got a suit?”

✮ ✭ ✮

And that’s how you and Jason Todd ended up on a roof that night. You, at the crisp age of twenty one, and he at what you suppose is his version of nineteen. Still working on wrapping your head around that one.

You’ve pulled out your Mockingbird suit from under the bed. It was a bit dusty, but not hard to slip into. Everything seems in place. It’s just old. Your voice scrambler is still working okay and all the eyes light up efficiently. Jason’s got a suit too.

“I don’t,” Jason answers, his face suspicious. His eyes are twinkling as he looks down at you. It’s so hard to believe he’s just a boy- or was, last you saw him.

“Don’t worry,” you tell him. “I got you.”

You lead Jason to your room, into your closet, and into a space even farther back where an illuminated glass case the size of several yard sticks stands. It must cost more than your whole apartment. Inside of it is a metal suit like a military uniform, similar to Bruce’s Batsuit but with an Arkham emblem over the chest.

“Call it the Arkham Knight. You like it?”

“Where did you get this?” Jason steps forward, raking his eyes up and down the design. Bruce would hate it.

“I stole it from the Batcave.”

“The whole display case?” Jason snaps to you. Then his brows shoot up and he takes a step closer. “How do you know where the Batcave is?”

“How did you know where my apartment is? And yes, I took the whole case. It was just sitting there.”

Jason turns back around to the suit. It’s growing on him. He admires it. It’s perfect. The Arkham symbol will put the Batman into a state of despair. “Hard to believe you and Selina aren’t friends anymore.”

“We never were,” you mutter back. It’s really not his business that you ended so many partnerships because of his death.

“You’re sure this is the place?” you question. It sends Jason into a state of euphoria, hearing the distorted villainy of your voice again. It feels like the first time too, just like when he saw your face again. It feels how it did when he was fifteen and infatuated with the Mockingbird. It’s almost dizzying. It’s just strange to hear it knowing that now you’re on the same side.

“Yeah,” he answers through his helmet. His voice is distorted too. “This is the place.”

You’re overlooking a Gotham street at night, something you’ve both discovered vigilantes, heroes, and villains do a lot of. Smoke fills the air along with police sirens and building lights. You’re positioned in one of the outer districts though, away from most of the commotion.

“I can’t remember the last time I was here,” you say, half to yourself.

“I can,” Jason says back. “When I ran with Batman. Last year. I was fifteen.” Jason's voice drops. “Or was I...”

You frown behind your own mask. Of course. Jason died four years ago, and he was fifteen when that happened. He came back- you’re not sure when- older and stronger and behind on the changes of the world. He must not know about social media, or the latest television crazes, or the new roads in Gotham. It makes you sad.

All Jason sees when he meets your eyes through his visor is several red slanted lines. You’re both unreadable through your helmets.

“There’s a good restaurant down on this corner,” you both turn back to the street, crouching in wait. “Maybe B-Man likes it.”

“He never eats,” says the ex-Robin. “Never sleeps. Never does anything.”

“You know he broke my buddy Scarecrow’s bones last Halloween?” you scoff. “Literally for not knowing where Black Mask is. Your old boss is weird as hell.”

Jason cocks an eyebrow you can’t see. “Thought you weren’t friends with Scarecrow anymore?”

“Anymore? B-Man keeping tabs on me?”

“He keeps tabs on everyone,” Jason shakes his head. “You’re just a file.”

“Hm,” he hears you say. Contemplate, more like. You speak again after a moment of silence. “Well Scarecrow and me are fine, thank you for asking.”

Jason scoffs. “He your boyfriend or something?”

“My boyfriend’s over in Metropolis.”

Oh.

“How’s your girl?” Your head snaps to Jason at once, hands twitching around. “Or guy.”

He tosses a look to you that you can’t see, but you can guess at. Somewhere between ‘what the hell’ and ‘why the hell’ and an eye roll with furrowed brows.

“Come on. Rose Wilson seems your type. Ooh, Artemis?” You suddenly nudge his arm with your elbow. “Batgirl? Is it Dick?”

Another look is thrown your way. This time it feels more angry. “Whatever, Robin,” you offer lightly.

It dawns on you that perhaps Jason has never had a partner before. That seems more likely, especially after thinking about his situation, and suddenly you feel bad. It’s too late to vocalize an apology now though.

“Fine,” you say at last. “Let’s just stop talking.”

“Let’s do.”

✮ ✭ ✮

It starts raining not long after that.

The drops bounce off your suits harmlessly. There’s still no sign of this Tim Drake and Batman.

“Hey,” you break the silence. “Has anyone ever told you you look exactly like a statue?”

“Must be a resurrection thing.”

“Yep.”

The rain falls harsher.

“So,” Jason begins. “I have to ask. How do you do the- the…” he spins his pointer fingers around rapidly.

“What the fuck are you doing? What is that? No- what is that right there?”

“The thing that you do.”

“I’ve never done that in my life, Jason. What is that? Finger jiu jitsu?”

You hear Jason suck in a breath as he turns away. “You think you’re so funny.”

“You asked me for help. And between the two of us- who has died here? Not me. I’m hilarious.”

“Oh,” he scoffs. “So hilarious.”

“You seemed to think so. When…” your voice trails off. You almost wanted to mention that night in the warehouse to him. A memory of him looking up at you, his hands bound behind his back as he stares in wonder flashes in your mind. But it doesn’t linger for long. Movement in the street catches your eye. “Jason.”

Both your heads snap down to the place below. Sure enough, after a few seconds, a figure steps into view of the moonlight. A skinny kid with dark hair and a bright red and yellow costume. He looks younger than Dick or Jason.

“That’s him,” your partner says. He reaches behind his back and pulls out a long rod. It unfolds with a click that you recognize- the click of a gun.

“What?” you furrow your brows. “Woah- what?”

“I’m gonna shoot him,” Jason tells you casually, fiddling around with the weapon. It’s coming into shape more and more as a sniper rifle.

“That is a child,” you whisper hiss. “He’s like ten!”

“I don’t think he’s ten,” Jason puts his eye over the scope. “This is revenge.”

“Please, do not shoot a child for replacing you in your job of tightie whities vigilante.”

Jason huffs through his mask and looks over at you. “What did you think this was, bird?”

“I thought we were just like, gonna kick him in the balls or something! This is exactly what I meant by ‘we are going to jail’! I told you we should’ve let god fix it!”

“He’ll be fine.”

You knock the rifle out of the Arkham Knights hands with a bang. It clambers across the roof top until it’s nearly over the edge, half on half off.

Jason and you go down at once, shoulder to shoulder in a tackle. Thunder booms overhead. Through his visor, Jason sees you raise a white, gauntleted fist back in a punch, aimed right for his face. Luckily, he manages to catch you by the torso and neck and throw you off.

When he pushes himself to his knee and foot in a kneel, he looks up to find an exact replica of himself. Not literally, of course, but looking at you is like looking into a mirror. Your hand is placed on the rooftop the same way his is. Your knees are bent at the exact same angle as his own. When Jason cocks his head to the side slowly, yours follows him at the same time. So this is what it means to fight the Mockingbird.

He decides to reach for the gun at the side of his leg. He manages to fire once- and miss- a bang going off that he’ll be lucky Drake doesn’t hear over the storm. You knock the gun out of his hands easily, dodging a punch to the stomach before countering with one of your own to his face. It hits the exact same way Jason’s do. He sees your knuckles coming closer to him and almost thinks they’re his own.

Next idea is toss you off the building. Key word: you. Not him.

Jason grips the back of your head through your hood, reaching around. He carries you with him while he stands, tensing his abs as he feels you hammer your elbow away at them. It’s the knee to his crotch that makes him let go and let out a strangled groan.

But before anything else can happen, you spring forward at him in a pounce. Your palms latch onto his shoulders. His feet disconnect from the surface of the roof and the both of you go backwards until neither one of you are on the building at all, over the side.

Jason gets tangled in the emergency stair well. His metal suit clangs against it as he falls and tumbles down, either causing or saving some head injuries. You hit your back on an old street light before landing in a trash bin.

This is it, you manage to think to yourself. Lying in a garbage bin in Gotham at night. And in the rain. This is rock bottom.

I am going to kill everyone on the block for this, thinks Jason.

✮ ✭ ✮

You do eventually get up and remove yourself from the garbage bin. Jason sits at the bottom of the stairs, watching you. You do not exchange words. He does, however, follow you down the street as you essentially stomp.

“Ma’am,” he offers quietly to a gawking older woman.

You enter a small restaurant. More of a diner, really. The door jingles as it opens, and Jason watches you walk to the side until you find a table by the window. You sit down with a huff, tapping one of your helmets red eyes. He shuffles into the space ahead of you, nearly skirting the table across the floor with the bulk of his own muscle and suit. He can feel your judgy eyes on him as he clambers into the seat like a large, run down father.

“Hi there,” a chirpy waitress bounds. She’s a large, redheaded woman in a bright yellow uniform and a hat with a spring connected to a plastic burger on top. It is ridiculous, funny, and you are sadly not in the mood. “My, aren’t you two some interesting looking people! We don’t get a lot of men of metal around here!”

You both look at her silently, masks on but hatred seeping through boredly.

“What can I get you tonight?”

“A gun,” you drawl tiredly, rubbing your palms over your mask.

“We’re not sellin’ those right now, my dear. Something else?”

“Two cheeseburgers would be fine,” Jason speaks up for you.

“Two burgers,” the waitress repeats with a smile, writing it down in her burger notepad. Her cheeks are rosy as she beams happily. “And should I be expecting Superman?”

“Die,” you snap to her, watching her hurry off to the kitchen. Then you put your head down in your folded arms on the table.

Jason glanced around. It’s empty except for the two of you and some dumpy guy in a trucker hat with wide eyes. “What’re you staring at?” Jason all but barks. Normally, he tries to make himself as unnoticeable as possible in public. Not very confident or secure, it seems. But now he’s tired. He just fell down about a million floors worth of metal stairs. It’s late and he lost two of his guns.

“What?” you raise your head, also looking at the trucker hat man. “You’ve never seen two people in superhero suits before?”

“Beat it,” Jason orders.

The man is quick to stand and speed walk away. Still you egg on, “get out of here, bozo!”

“What a fuckin’ prick,” Jason grumbles as he watches the man trip down the street through his view from the window, the door still ringing to signal it’s been opened.

“Yeah,” you agree tiredly.

Your nimble fingers reach up and back to push your white hood from your head. Then they click against the sides of your face and pull the helmet away, revealing your face. You inhale as if you couldn’t get enough air before. Jason watches you, still as a statue, his visor giving him the luxury of being able to monitor your breathing.

“Now what?” you gripe, rubbing your eyes. It can’t be comfortable with all the armor on your hands, but you don’t seem bothered. You must’ve gotten used to it by now.

The Arkham Knight ahead of you only cocks his head to the side slightly. Silent with his helmet. “I’ll help you punch Tim but that’s as far as I’ll go.”

“Why are you defending this kid?” you hear Jason breathe in return. For a split second, electricity runs through you at the sound of his distorted voice, the way his body looks in his suit of armor and how unreadable he is through the helmet. It shocks you all the the way down to your crotch.

“You know,” you begin, eyes widening and voice quieting with a sudden nervousness. “He’s just a kid. Younger than you were.”

Jason scoffs and turns his head away from you, now looking out the window. Gotham is dark and damp outside. “Bullshit,” he scoffs. Then after a few seconds and continues. “Tim Drake and I are the same age.” His head pulls back slightly, fingers giving a strange, sudden twitch. “Or were. We’re-”

You’ll never know what Tim Drake and Jason Todd were. Jason never finishes his sentence, and only his suit flashes with little codes and details to let you know he’s still alive in there. Besides that, he’s as still, lost in sudden thought. You frown and lean in a bit, tapping your elbow with your fingers while you shift uncomfortably. “You’re nineteen, Jason.”

His head twitches again. Now you know he’s heard you. “I’m two years older than you,” you reason. “You’re nineteen.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Why did you let me go?”

Your eyebrows scrunch and unscrunch. Another wave of electricity shocks down your body, but this time it’s because his voice sounded more like his own. You could hear it under the layers of metal and distortion. But option one is to respond to his question by pretending you don’t know what he’s talking about. That seems like it’s for the best.

“You were just a kid,” you tell him honestly. He silently presses you on. “And I just- I looked at you and I…” I really liked you, kid. Best night I had in years. Made me smile. God, you had to stop working with so many other Gotham city villains just for making jokes about the kid. “You were fifteen,” you say, looking away. “Just a kid.”

Jason watches you. Again, your head turns so you look out the window. He would’ve expected that to be the end of it, but you continue. “Why didn’t you turn me in?”

Jason’s about to pretend to not know what you’re talking about, because it seems like it’s for the best that way. But then he remembers you can’t see anything through his helmet. “What’re you talking about?” he gruffs.

“You saw my face in that warehouse,” you press. “If you had told Batman, I would’ve been to jail. Maybe Arkham. But that never happened. So why didn’t you tell him?”

I was obsessed with you, Jason’s mind screams. In love with you! It hisses, which makes Jason cringe. “Guess you were a kid too.” That’s right. You were seventeen back then. What is that? Last year of high school? You balanced a criminal career and the required education for a minor at the same time. Where were your parents during this?

Jason bites down on his lip hard. Parents. Should shut up about that, probably.

“I’m uh,” you bite your lip and then lick it. “I’m sorry for pushing you. On the roof.”

He shifts. “It’s nothing.”

You turn back to the window. Your arms uncross from atop the table and go to rest in your lap. This close and this still, Jason can make out all the details in your suit. It’s impressive. Kevlar and rubber and plastic, the Riddler had told him. Not the gloves. That’s metal and plastic.

“So,” Jason decides. “How do you that?” Your brows crease in confusion. He tries to do the finger motions he’d down before, which makes you cringe. “The mirroring. And the fighting and the…” he goes through the motions again. “It in your helmet?”

Your confusion sinks away. A new expression washes over your face as you lean in. One finger reaches up, poking your temple and you smile softly. “Bat knowledge.”

Just then, the waitress saves the day. “Two cheeseburgers for the scary suit people!” she beams, setting the plates down. For a second, her breasts are pressed into each of your faces. Jason first, who does not move and you can’t see under the helmet. You bite back a snicker but instead seep a childish look. Then you’re next, and you can feel Jason’s silent laugh under his Arkham Knight suit as your eyes go wide. “Enjoy, dears!”

“Boobs,” you shiver. “Just got boobs in my face.” And then Jason watches you carefully pick up the burger in your dangerous gloves, and take a bite.

Indeed, for the first time that night, the man in front of you reaches up and pulls off his own helmet with a click. You watch it be taken into his large, veiny hands and passed to the edge of the table, against the wall of the window. Then your eyes wander up to his face, which makes you chew slower.

A strong face. Sharp jaw, perfectly in line nose. Lips always pulled into a scowl. Bright eyes with tired circles and scars across his skin. There’s a streak of white in his dark hair you hadn’t noticed at all before, though now it’s practically blaring you in the face. Jason Todd is very handsome.

“What?” he says behind his burger, raising it to his lips but freezing before he can bite into it.

You shrug and focus again on your burger. You hear Jason bite into his own.

“I don’t have any money,” you tell him after a moment, swallowing down a bite.

“Me neither,” Jason answers. He nudges his head towards the window. “There’s an ATM across the street.” You nod in response.

A few bites in you speak again. The minutes have been filled with the noises of chewing and swallowing and yummy meat and cheese. “You ever heard of Mitski?”

Jason swallows his bite, which are bigger than yours. “What?”

“Mitski,” you repeat. “The singer?” Jason shakes his head. “You seem like you’d like her. My boyfriend hates her.”

Jason’s brows twitch.

“Why aren’t you with him?” he questions, taking another bite.

You roll your eyes. “Too expensive. He’s-”

“But he lives there.”

“He just didn’t offer,” you shrug. “I don’t have the money anyway. It’s fine.”

Jason cocks a brow. Your own boyfriend didn’t offer to get you out of this shithole?

You roll your eyes. “We haven’t talked in a long time okay? He’s busy. I’m busy.”

Both of Jason’s brows raise now, almost playfully. “Busy with what?”

You’d be offended if you weren’t busy trying to answer. What were you busy with? After you graduated, money went dry with university. It became less frequent after retiring from the Mockingbird mantle. Most of your jobs were minimum wage and short lived. You’re a bartender now, but not somewhere that’ll keep you going probably. Most days you sit around the apartment or run errands, sometimes hosting Ivy. Last time she’d been over, she’d given you a plant that had quickly died and spoke about Harley quite a bit. And Riddler obviously doesn’t come over anymore. Scarecrow had once but he’s off doing god only knows now.

“Shut up,” you hiss. “What are you busy with?”

“Controlling crime in Gotham,” Jason takes a bite.

“How’s that working out for you?”

“Well.”

“You know you didn’t have to ask me to do this,” you say. “You could’ve just asked someone else. There’s a lot of people in Gotham okay with child killing.”

“I wanted you,” Jason explains. He’s quick to speak again to keep you from thinking about his words. “You were the first person I thought of.”

You’re nearing the end of your burger. “How did you find me?”

Jason shrugs mid-chew. He’s almost done as well. “Riddler.”

“Gave me away that easy?”

“Yep.”

You chew your last bite. It was a good and hearty burger, the cheese melting perfectly against the patty and your tongue.

“You want anything else?” Jason asks.

You watch the street outside, eyes squinting on the ATM. “Jason,” you mutter. “Jason.”

✮ ✭ ✮

Three men snicker as they load up dark blue duffel bags. They’re slimey and smelly, like an old sewer. Money falls from the machine like a waterfall.

Their success doesn’t last long.

One of them comes in contact with the Mockingbird’s elbow and slams his head into a brick building. The other two are just inexplicably on the ground, incapacitated while the Arkham Knight stands overhead.

“Fuck,” you breathe through your helmet. “I missed this.”

Jason’s just picked up the duffel bag when the sudden sound of sirens blare through the air. It’s close. Too close.

“Well that’s no good,” you mutter. You turn to Jason, taking a sharp step forward. “Give it to me.”

His brows furrow under the mask.

“I’ll pay the waitress,” you say. “You run.”

Jason reaches behind his belt and shifts the weight of the bag into one hand. A gun appears- a small handgun. You duck down as he raises it at you, holding your head down as the BANG! rings through the air.

You stand back to your feet, bracing yourself at the sudden sight. The Arkham Knight charges you, but only to pick you up like you’re nothing and jump through the glass window he previously shot at. The adrenaline makes things hazy, but you can see the blue and red lights now. It doesn’t matter. The two of you fly across what turns out to be a pawn shop, burst through the back door and back room until you hit the cold outside air of Gotham again. Multiple doors slam shut behind you. You’re both out of breath and panting, and it’s raining again. This time in an alleyway.

But the cops won’t follow you out here.

It’s quiet besides the panting from you two. Jason has more endurance, you’re sure, but you can hear his breathing inside his helmet. He lets the duffel bag slip out of his grasp as you double over. “I did miss that,” you offer. “Running from the police.” The Arkham Knight just continues his breathing.

“Thank you,” you tell him.

✮ ✭ ✮

Two days after the incident, you enter your apartment lazily. Your keys are tossed onto the island counter before you wander through your mail. One of your letters is from Ed in Arkham, warning you about “some big guy asking about you”. A bit late for that now. You haven’t heard from Jason since that night.

It isn’t until you go to sit on your couch that you notice a large, nearly bursting open envelope. Your fingers stretch to reach it, examining it. No return address, but written in pen in sloppy letters is the word “Bird”. Luckily, it doesn’t feel like a bomb. It feels more soft but firm.

You open the envelope. Your breathing hitches, breath slowing when you see what’s inside. Then a smirk comes over your face.

Just then, dust falls from your shitty apartment ceiling.

✮ ✭ ✮

A week after the failed Tim Drake incident, a young man decides to pay a visit to your building. He is tall and strong, with raven hair laced with a white streak at the front. He frowns at everything, ducking his head to make himself smaller and less noticeable. He cares not for being perceived by other people. He’s well aware of how he looks.

The man’s knuckles tap against apartment 317. He shifts, looking back and forth. The man is quite attractive in is casual red hoodie and jeans, but he wants to be out of the open as soon as he can. After a moment, there is no response from inside.

He scrunches his brows and knocks again. When he takes a step closer, he can hear something from the inside. Music. A piano and drums and maybe an organ?

Jason twists the door knob with ease and steps ahead and inside. The apartment is completely and totally empty. The music becomes louder and more clear. It’s a female singer he doesn’t recognize.

Only the bones of the kitchen remain. Counters, cabinets, a sink, and an old fridge. There’s mold in the corner of the space. But in the middle of the floor where the couch and living room used to be is a cluster of things. Things meant for Jason Todd.

The man eyes the pile for a few seconds. Then he sets towards it. The first thing he recognizes is a CD player with the volume turned all the way up. He still doesn’t know the song.

Besides the player is a suit he’s quite familiar with. It’s clunky, but folded as neatly as it can be given that it’s made of metal. On the top is the helmet that gives it away. The Arkham Knight suit. It sits on a dark duffel bag in front of a small white piece of paper with the promise of ink inside. Jason decides to open that first.

You’re coming back… and it’s the end of the world…

Haha! I knew you’d show up!

Jason nearly rolls his eyes at the first sentence.

Thanks for the money. I know it was you. Thanks for the fun night too. Sorry about hitting your balls. They felt really big if that makes you feel better.

It didn’t.

I was thinking of Metropolis, but what do you know, me and the boy toy decided it might be better to hold off on it. I got a bit of dirt on the kid by the way. You’ll find it on the back of this paper. Oh and I hope you like the Mitski soundtrack. I bet Drake’s the kind too. I’m going to keep the Mockingbird suit if you don’t mind. I guess our night of fun kinda reignited an old flame. Don’t even think about coming after me.

Son of a bitch, Jason internally screams.

I have a gift for you though. You get the Arkham Knight. You look good in it. And a little something extra in the bag by the way.

Love, Mockingbird.

I just need a quiet place… where I can scream, how I love you…

Indeed, inside the duffel bag Jason Todd finds some cash and red fabric with an R emblem over the chest. He doesn’t need to pull the rest out to understand what it is. He decides not to question how you got his old Robin suit or when, but lets himself smile a bit, his chest expanding with his breath. It’s a real smile too.

You’ve given Jason everything he needs to go after Tim Drake himself.

✮ ✭ ✮

I hope I’ve ruined everyone’s day. You think I would let the reader and Jason be happy together? You absolute baffoon. Maybe I’ll make a part three for gits and shiggles though. I’m not sure about this one. Definitely more based around their interactions than the drama unlike the first one. It was fun though. I hit the paragraph limit. I think I did a good job with the chemistry. I do apologize for giving the reader a real set in stone age though. I don’t like to to that because I think it takes away the point of having a ‘reader’. Also if you’re vegetarian please just eat a cheeseburger it’s so good y’all are weird. Oh and fun fact I just got a Red Hood tattoo on Saturday! Look at me go!

Tagging everyone who asked for a part ii: @yunho-leeknow @fyowyn-writes @martianmilfhunter @beardedfandiplomatprofessor

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pjm-com · 3 years

Text

unbound | m.

- a/n : a big thank you to @ksj-com for helping with the plot hehe

- pairing: kim taehyung x reader - genre: smut, forbidden love! au, slight angst - warnings: sex, cursing, fighting, boys being boys - word count: 11.4K - summary: years after being under the sharp eye of your brother, taehyung finally returns your feelings. of course, jungkook is wanting to protect you from another vicious heartbreak after yoongi, but taehyung will find a way to see you. with or without jungkook's permission.

“Fuck this date.”

You slammed the door shut, tears rolling down your face. You’re glad your parents went away on some kayaking trip, cause the entire house shook. You hang up your purse, not even stopping to look at the outfit you had just wasted. A simple spaghetti strap dress. You had curled your hair for once too, considering it was usually in a bun, or you just left it alone. Not to mention, you had to borrow makeup from a friend considering you rarely wore any.

To put it simply, this was a waste of your fucking time.

You stomped up the stairs towards your brother's room, knowing you’d be able to confide in him. It’s something he’s been doing heartbreak after heartbreak and it gets a little easier every time. His best friend Taehyung would always weigh in too when he could, and they always knew what to say. You’re afraid that this time, they’re gonna want to do more than give advice. If they didn’t kill him first, you’d be able to milk an apology out of the date.

Slamming the door, you sniffle loudly. “Sorry.. can I come to hang out?” Your voice sounded clogged from the drive home. Not one, but two pairs of eyes land on you. Jungkook nods in an instant, patting the open space on the bed. Taehyung’s eyes are glued on you out of pure shock, following you closely as you fall face-first into the bed. The warm palm of your brother's hand on the low of your back. For some reason, it makes you cry even harder.

God, you were pathetic. You haven’t cried over a boy in so long, but this one hurt a little more. You guess you figured that he had liked you, so maybe that’s why it was a little sore right now.

“What's wrong?” Jungkook’s soft voice rings through the room as their game goes on pause. He continues to rub your back in huge circles to calm your breathing while you find a stopping point to the sobbing. You pick up your head, wiping your eyes the best you could, laughing angrily.

“Sorry about your comforter…” Jungkook waves it off. “It's just— I get all dressed up in t-this, which we all know I don’t dress to impress. Then, Mr. Min fucking Yoongi shows up, fifteen minutes late might I add. He barely even looked at me all night.” The boys share a look that is quick, eyes wide.

“Kook, Don’t Namjoon and Hoseok know him?” Taehyung sounded surprised, while your brother nodded.

“Namjoon was who introduced them I think.”

You nod to both of them, playing with a loose string of Jungkook’s blanket. “Yeah, that and we have study hall together.. not that it matters anymore…” You trail off, upset. You were having a good time with him too, even if it was for a few class periods every week. You hated feeling this way, showing weakness in front of your brother and his friend. You couldn’t help it. Guys were assholes.

Shifting into a sitting position, you lean against your brother's shoulder. “Then, he was like ‘so when are we going to fuck’, and lewd stuff like that.. Like— like how do you just say something like that? I feel like an idiot,” You whined, tears falling freely again. You sniffled again as Jungkook brings you in for a hug.

Your brother groaned. “That’s fucked up.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “I went in there thinking he was interested in me. Not my body. It seemed like he only cared about sex. He even told me he had second thoughts coming, but… I can only assume he came in case he was gonna get laid.” Your voice dropped off as you let it out, crying into your hands. Boys were cruel and that was more than evident. Jeon Jungkook was horrible at many things. He couldn’t cook, he once swallowed a puzzle piece and got put on house arrest once. That being said, he’s still your brother and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. He’s an idiot. You have so many other options, he doesn’t even deserve your time.”

Taehyung seconds Jungkook’s words. “For real. You’re funny, you are talented at a lot of things… and I guess you aren’t that ugly.”

You snort softly as you look up from Jungkook’s arms, wiping your eyes while you three laugh. It’s the oldest cliche in the book, but hearing that from Taehyung makes your heart flutter. You continued to look at Taehyung for a bit, cheeks red as you looked at your own feet. You don’t know when you even started having a crush on the older male, but you hate it. As much as it pains you to say that. Jungkook made it crystal clear that he was off-limits, while Taehyung had made no effort to try and make a move. You left it dormant.

You smile. “Thanks, Tae.” You sigh, wiping your eyes for hopefully the last time. “Sorry for crashing, well— whatever this was.”

Jungkook shakes his head, tone firm. “We weren’t doing much of anything. Did you want to join us?”

You look over to his counterpart, the look on Taehyung’s face inviting as you decided. If you had another second alone with yourself, then you might as well just cry for the rest of the night. Nodding, you excuse yourself to change into some regular clothes and take a moment to wipe off your makeup. Your phone lights up, reading Min Yoongi. The infamous senior who everyone wanted to be with, despite being a nonchalant asshole.

He seemed genuine at first, he did. You wonder why you put yourself in these situations, but you can’t find an answer. At least not one you want to admit. Stepping back into your bother’s room with fresh sweatpants and a tight hoodie, you move towards the boys. Sitting on the bed, you pull Jungkook’s fuzzy blanket over your body and relax into the headboard.

The exhaustion stops you almost immediately, eyes closed as you slump against the pillow. Your mind washes away all the worries of a couple of hours before.

You dreamt about your future. Working a dull nine to five, a decent car, a nice house in a quiet neighborhood. Wasn’t ideal, but your husband in the dream was making everything with it. That being said, you couldn’t make out his face, the blonde blurry to your eyes. You enjoyed his company, or at least you did according to the last strings of your dreams.

You make quick work of getting ready, pulling on jeans and a hoodie considering the temperature had dropped today. Once ready, you brush your teeth and floss quickly before you grab your bag and make your way downstairs. You cursed to yourself as you barely had touched your homework. A nerve-eating parasite pinched the very core of your stomach, dragging yourself down into the kitchen with dread. Yoongi was the last person you had wanted to see. Unfortunately, you’d have to suck it up and face your day head-on.

You’re surprised to see Jungkook by himself at the island, choking on a bowl of Frosted Flakes as he dumped the plastic bowl into the sink, looking at you.

“Where’s thing two?” Not that you cared. Okay, you did, but you were curious. They went everywhere together and Taehyung was the last to wake up when he slept at your house. Your brunette brother shrugged, slipping into his vans and almost face planting as he did. He grabbed his keys, moving out the door with urgency. You deadpanned. “Stay up late?”

Jungkook snorted. “Yeah, till almost four. S’ crazy right? Trying to wake up Taehyung is like trying to wake up a cemetery. When I got up, he was gone. Maybe he went to school early?” You both shared a look before bursting into laughter.

“Yeah right,” you laugh as you lock your front door, trailing behind Jungkook to the car. “That knucklehead would never go to school early.. maybe had to shower or something.” You get into your brother's car, deciding you leave yours home for the day. You were coming straight home after school and nowhere else, and taking two vehicles to school was a little extra.

The ride to school was the same, Kook talking about whatever girl he was banging while you just watched the houses move by. You dreaded getting to school, but on the bright side, you wouldn’t have any distractions. You could get all your homework done for the weekend. You doubted Yoongi would even be there, considering all he did was sit in the bathroom and smoke weed.

You guess you kind of liked that, though. You lived a bit of a cookie-cutter life, and never had a taste of danger. Till you met Yoongi.

Finally, you were parked in the school lot. As soon as you stepped out of the car, Taehyung was jogging to you both. His brown eyes crazy and you couldn’t help but notice his knuckles were a bit red. Couldn’t blame him, considering it was the cold dry season.

The blonde fell into step with you and your brother, joining in on the regular morning banter. How Jungkook was a whore, and Taehyung was practically locked in a chatty belt. You thought it was sweet though. Taehyung didn’t have many girlfriends, and you thought it was refreshing how he took everything at his own pace.

“You guys are idiots,” you call, watching the twins wrestle as you open your locker. You shove some books in, only to take out the necessary ones as you wave goodbye to dumb and dumber. Taehyung smiles at you while he waves, and your return the action right back. The prettiest smile you had ever seen. It sounds gross to be gushing over someone who had grown up with you, but the childhood feelings were long gone. They grew up with you, less innocent than they were before. Not that you’d ever say anything.

Taking a seat, you set your books down on your usual table, the commons more crowded than usual. The bell rings and some kids scatter, but it was still heavy traffic in the heart of the school. Your stomach does flips into your fucking ass, almost dropping your headphones as half of the cafeteria watches with you.

Yoongi makes his way across the room, soft eye turned black. Chapped lip now split. It looked fresh too. Not a yesterday kind of bruise, it was more of a thirty-minute wound. He barely gave you time to process how close he was, but the tone was pitiful. Forced. Like someone was holding a gun to his head.

“I’m sorry.” It was dry and airy, but it was.. an apology? “I’m sorry for acting like an asshole. I'm not sure what got into me that night, but I shouldn’t have treated you like that. 's not right.” With that, without even waiting for an answer, he was gone. Anger filled your head to toe. You’re not even sure how it was possible. Who the hell had even beat him up? And was it related to your situation? You finish your homework, but with a clouded mind. So many questions and no answers. You figure it must’ve been Jungkook. Maybe that’s why he was so tired this morning.

You were gonna let him have it.

The rest of the day followed fast and suit as a Friday would. It had blurred by, probably due to the anger. You heated up even more as the car was unlocked, pushing your bag into the seat while Jungkook stared at you weirdly.

“The hell was that today?” The confusion is almost comical, eyebrows knitted as he starts the car. “Don’t act brand new. Yoongi came up to me this morning with his face practically smashed. He apologized to me.” Jugnkook laughed it off, turning on the car and backing out of the parking spot.

“Y/N, you give me too much credit. Mom would beat my ass if I beat someone else’s. Though, I do envy whoever did. Any other leads?” You shake your head as you sink back into the seat. This day felt too long. “I mean, we told Joon about it, but he’s cool Y/N you know him. Doubt he’d do anything so drastic.” You were at a dead end. The drive home was silent. You had no more energy for talking or doing anything else. It seemed so crazy.

You know what though? At least he apologized. Whether he meant it or not, he had to drag his sorry ass through the commons after getting it handed to him, and he had to apologize. You could take a decent nap on that note alone. Although, it still burns in the back of your skull that someone had done it for you. Or at least you thought.

You’re still unsure if the two were related.

“You want a sandwich?” Jungkook offers it up as you both enter the house, dropping your bag as you nod. You honestly forgot to eat today, hunger pangs banging on the wall of your gut. You sit at the island, opening a Gatorade as you watch Jungkook pull out the sub bread and the other fixings to the “world-famous” sub he made. Honestly, it was pretty damn good, and you could eat a whole one right about now.

“So.. you feeling better?” You sigh at the question, chin rested on your hand as you shrug.

You weren’t too sure. “I guess. I'm glad he apologized, but it still racks my mind. Why was he all banged up?” Jungkook halts a bit, before shrugging normally. Jungkook wanted to let the situation blow over, so he decided not to say anything. “Wasn’t you, wasn’t Namjoon, and it wasn’t Taehyung? So… I don't know. Who cares. Enough bout that asshole... What are your plans for tonight?”

Jungkook was glad you had dropped the topic. “The usual. I think the boys are gonna come over tonight if that’s okay with you? I don’t know if you wanted a quiet night or something, but. Jimin wants to play Mario Kart, and Hoseok is going to raid our fridge... You know the usual,” he laughed. But nothing more was said. You happily ate the sandwich, watching the brunette crack out his chemistry book to finish his homework before the boys came over.

You retreated to the bedroom, changing into some sweatpants and one of Jungkook’s old ratty hoodies. The moment your head hit your pillow, you were out like a light.

Honestly, when you woke up, you felt a thousand times better. Your body felt relaxed, you had finger marks on your cheeks. It was probably the best damn nap you’ve had in a while. You rub your eyes, not surprised to see a couple of snap chats from your friends considering you had been asleep for a couple of hours now. You’re almost tempted to go back to sleep before you hear faint yelling from downstairs.

You didn’t mind going to spend a little time with them, laughing as you see Jimin tackle Jin over the coffee table as the raven took first place again. Jimin was no match for the taller male, however, Jin pushing the brunette over the table and straight on his ass, laughing.

“Hey,” you said softly, grabbing a water bottle from the hallway stash, sitting on the edge of the counter.

“Y/N did you see that, Jin’s a cheater!” Jimin wailed throughout the house, making everyone roll their eyes.

Jin’s face only read malice. “Just like your last girlfriend.” The boys all winced at the comeback, laughing a little once they saw Jimin wasn’t phased. “Too soon?” The two start wrestling again, making you laugh. You move past the four-year-olds on the floor, pulling out a small bag of pretzels from the pantry. You open them, turning on your heel before you almost bump into Namjoon. He was a bit of a refresher. He was kind through and through, and always put everyone before himself. Even when your mother forced your brother to let you come with when you were younger, Namjoon always made sure you were included and cared for.

“Woah! Sorry,” you laugh, ready to move past but Namjoon blocks you.

You can read on his face that he’s a little guilty, but you’re not too sure what for. His mouth opens like he’s finding the words, before his lips purse again.

You laugh. “Namjoon, stop sweating. It’s okay, I’m okay.” Namjoon doesn’t buy it. He pulls you into a hug, lips pressed to the top of your head. He was really like an older brother to you, right under Jungkook.

“It’s not... I just. I don’t know. I feel— you never would’ve met him if it wasn’t for me. And I just—“ He cuts himself off. “No one should ever be told those things…” He sure sounded guilty. You did, however, accept the hug.

“Hey, seriously... It sucks, but it’s not your fault. I would never blame you for something like that. Seriously I mean it.” You smile up at the raven, and he finally smiles back. He’s relieved, but you had another thing to get off your chest. “Hey, speaking of him… did you happen to see who beat him up? When he apologized, he looked… busted,” You laugh, Namjoon follows suit.

Unfortunately, Joon shakes his head. “Nope.. figured Jungkook did that, but no. I wish I had an answer,” he shrugged, a frown on his features before Jungkook is calling you both over. You suppressed the curiosity, for now, wondering if you’d ever get an answer. You roll your eyes as your brother referred to you as stinky, laughing as you snatch the controller from Hoseok who was losing anyways.

“Let me show you guys how a real match is played.”

All the boys got their remotes ready. Honestly, you had fun playing the few rounds you did. You kept winning first place against Jimin who was definitely in the lead. You hand the controller, relaxing back into the huge couch. You’re surprised it's taken you this long to realize that Taehyung wasn’t even here. He was always over, so you wondered why he was missing right now. You pull out your phone, checking his location at his own house.

You decide to text him, phone screen tilted to Jungkook couldn’t see.

hey, loser. why aren’t you kicking everyone's ass on the wii?

You watch the text bubble start typing on the screen, and for a few good minutes, it’s going. You’re ready to see a keyboard smash or something considering it was taking a while for the text to send. Just like that, it’s gone. The hell? It wasn’t like Taehyung to not respond, or to take long at all. Something felt off, but you knew Jungkook’s rules. He would be curious as to why you were going over to his house.

“Hey kook, I’m gonna.. get some ice cream. You want any on the way back?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Nah, we’re gonna go get food after this round. Check-in with me at eleven!” You rolled your eyes, slipping on your slippers as you said goodbye to the boys. Unlocking your car, you got in and pulled out of the driveway as soon as it was warmed up enough. It wasn’t a far drive to Taehyung’s house, only a couple of streets over from yours. You knew the route by heart, all the countless nights of you and your brother sneaking out of your house. You high-tailed it to the blue suburban at the end of the cul de sac, only to be dragged home by your mother.

When you finally arrive at the house, you park on the street noticing the house was pitch black. Save for the basement window, which was Taehyung’s window. You kill the engine, shutting the door quietly as you trek up to the front of the house. Tipping the potted fern out front, you grab the hidden spare key, unlocking the front door gently. You close it behind you, taking off your shoes as you sneak down to the basement, not wanting to wake his parents.

You tap the ‘man cave’ sign that the idiots painted for good luck; a tradition you all had. It doesn’t take long to spot Taehyung slouched against the headboard, hand in a chip bowl as you hear the opening credits of SpongeBob. Oh lord.

“Hey stranger,” you call softly, watching him mope around as he paused the show, sitting up.

His face showed that he seemed a little annoyed. “What do you want?” You’re thrown off by the tone, but you can tell he’s upset. Or that he’s in a mood, even though he quickly backtracked. “I’m sorry... I’m just. I got a lot on my mind.” Your eyebrows knit, looking at the expression. Whatever it was, it was kicking his ass.

“It’s okay,” You sigh, voice soft as you move to sit on the end of the bed. Taehyung is jumbling around words in his mouth, shrugging. He wants to avoid it, you can tell. He didn’t want to say whatever was obviously on the tip of his tongue, but it was going to eat him up one way or another. “Hey, the boys aren’t here.. Say what you need t—“

“I’m sorry, okay?” Your eyebrow raised at his words, but you didn’t even have to ask. “I’m sorry about Yoongi.”

You rolled your eyes. “God— what is it with you guys? You and Namjoon both. You don’t need to be sorry, he apologized. It sucks, but it’s over with.” You were starting to get a little irritated at how everyone was walking on eggshells around you. This wouldn’t be the first time your heart broke, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Taehyung groans like he’s at war with himself, leaning back into his bed.

“I was the one who beat him up… to get him to apologize.”

The silence that follows is deafening, your eyes wide at the words. Finally, you’re relieved that the whole ordeal is solved. But—

“Why?” You were grateful, truthfully. “What if you get in trouble?” Taehyung had a perfect record, and it wouldn’t sit right with you if he ruined it because of Yoongi. You weren’t going to lie, it did make your heart flutter a bit.

Taehyung sat up, eyes not meeting yours. “Cause, Y/N. I did it cause it's not fair. Yoongi shouldn’t get to walk around with a chip on his shoulder after saying what he did to you.” The blonde sighs, eyes finally looking up. “I pummeled him hard enough, I doubt he’d rat me out. I'm tired of seeing boy after boy come through and break your heart. It’s not fair to you.” Your cheeks burn at the words, sitting silently as you cross your arms. You couldn’t be mad at that, not when he was crusading for you.

“I'm surprised Jungkook didn’t rat me out. He knew… and he knows I like you.”

Now you’re super confused.

“Jungkook knew? That little shit,” you grumble. “I asked him. All-day I was trying to find out what the hell happened to Yoongi. But he knows you like me?” Taehyung nods, defeated as he holds one of his pillows against his chest. You have hit another dead end for maybe the fourth time today. It was unspoken between you two, but you already knew the deal. You can’t go after him. Even if you want to open that damn basement window and scream to the streets that he had finally liked you back.

“It doesn’t even matter,” he whined, eyes looking down at the floor now. “He doesn’t want to be in the middle or pick sides if we were to break up.” You nod, knowing that was Jungkook’s whole problem. It would be impossible for him to pick between his lifelong best friend and his sister. He couldn’t, and he doesn’t want to.

Taehyung on the other hand feels like a fucking idiot. Exposing his feelings, and to him, it seems like you’re dodging it head-on. Relief floods him.

“I like you, god I do,” You mumble, thumb brushing over the scar on the side of his face. “I don’t want to come between you and jungkook.” Taehyung shakes his head, holding your face in his hands.

“I don’t care anymore. I don’t,” he whined, moving closer. It felt like literal years before his lips touched yours and when they do, it knocks the wind out of you. His hand on yours as he practically smashes your lips together and god does it feel good. It feels so fucking good to kiss him. Like you’re finally breathing fresh air. You return the force of the kiss, hand on his shoulder as they mold together. His lips, they’re soft save for the tiny spot that's chapped. He had on cherry-flavored chapstick, making you smile a bit. It tasted weird.

“I don’t care.” Taehyung breathed against your lips. His hand held your face, thumb moving over your bottom lip. It gave your stomach butterflies, to say the least, while he kissed you again. Too slow for your liking, laughing as you bumped noses. You fell back into the bed, the blond following suit. If he didn’t care, then neither did you.

His hands stayed holding your head, jaw tilted in place as you made out slowly. Strings of soft, loving kisses that had years behind them. Decades.

“I guess it doesn’t hurt to keep things under wraps,” you mumbled, feeling his lips wander to your neck. An innocent kiss turned deviant.

You’ve never received a proper hickey before, and god was it making your head spin. The difference between a harsh bite on your neck was massive compared to what Taehyung was doing. His tongue was moving slowly over your skin, pinpointing the spot. Kissing it, mentally marking it before he started sucking on it carefully. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting him do as he pleased. The sensation heightened even more as his hand found yours. He laced the fingers together, before pinning it to the bed.

“Don’t make it too big,” you breathed, tightening the grip on his hand. The laugh that came from his lips was sinister, cold fingers feeling under your hood but stopping at the dip in your back. He held you close as his lips returned to yours, teeth tugging on them carefully before he was kissing you. Like he wasn’t just sucking the blood out of your neck.

Taehyung pulls away, calm. “How was that?” His mood, a whole one-eighty as he sported a lopsided grin. A new glint in his eyes. “I like that..” His thumb pressed over the spot he was just working on before pulling you up with him. The kiss he pressed to your foreheaD? God, everything about him was addicting and you only had him for mere seconds.

“You’re an idiot.” Your face, no help as your cheeks light on fire. Taehyung grinned, his infamous smile as he kissed you again. Honestly, you’re about to fall back into the bed before your phone rings. You’re snapped out of the honeymoon phase as you quickly read the screen. “Shit— I gotta go! Jungkook is so gonna kick my ass!”

You scramble to gather yourself, picking up your keys as you almost hurdle up the stairs. Your arm is yanked back, almost out of your damn socket. You’re flung back into Taehyung’s body, the lips finding yours for one last time before he’s pushing your ass out the door.

“Text me when you’re home.. let me know Jungkook didn’t skin you.”

You both share a nervous laugh, your own feet leaving behind a dust trail as you eject into the car. The engine races to life, pulling out from the side of the street only to speed home. The drive is uneventful and gut-wrenching. You almost clip the mailbox as you pull into your spot in the driveway. You shut your car door softly, fingers not even having the chance to turn the knob before the front door flings open. Jungkook standing there, your stomach falling into your ass.

He knows.

“Where the hell were you?”

“Getting ice cream.” Y/N, you’re a fucking idiot.

Your brother pulls you by the hoodie gently so he can shut the door and lock it. “Cut the bullshit, I have your location dumbs. You’re not doing a good job of hiding that hickey on your neck either.” He’s whisper yelling, which lets you conclude that his friends were still in the living room. The brunette grumbles, popping his head in to make sure his friends were still entertained. “When did you and Taehyung start fucking?” God, the way he spat it out was malicious. But you had to defend yourself.

“Can you watch your mouth kook? We aren’t, we just— kissed,” you groaned. “I know it sounds bad, but it didn’t start until tonight.”

“So you are fucking?”

You roll your eyes. “No, we aren’t. What's the big deal anyway? We kissed a couple of times, Jungkook. Grow up.” You kick off your shoes, turning to the stairs but you have Jungkook’s hand to keep you in place.

“Y/N, I told you the deal. You’ve known the deal. I don’t want you with him, I can’t be a mediator. I won’t have my best friend dating my little sister.” Jungkook’s voice was low but firm. He was dead serious.

But so were you.

You rip your arm out of his grip. “Then don’t be one, and mind your fucking business. I don’t need your approval on who I date.” You want to move up the stairs, but you had to get the last word. “You know, at least he gives a shit. At least he cared about everything that happened with Yoongi. He straightened him out, made him apologize while you barely lifted a finger! If it comes to that point, then it’s between me and Taehyung, not you.” You storm off to your room, Jungkook grumbling.

“Then tell your fucking boyfriend that he can forget about our fucking friendship.”

You slam your door at his words, back pressed against it as you tried to cool off. You yanked your phone out of your pocket, texting Taehyung.

he’s such a fucking asshole. he just blew up on me for no reason.

You fall back into your bed, huffing angrily as Taehyung responds.

ya. he txted me n told me to find another ride to school tmrw. guess he was srs bout cutting me off

Fuck Jungkook.

...

You never saw yourself doing pretty much anything that surfaced within the two months after you and Taehyung started seeing each other. Secretly of course.

Even if the idiots called quits on their friendship, Jungkook would still kick Taehyung’s ass if he saw you together. You’ve been lying to Jungkook about where you go after school. He was still giving you the cold shoulder, suspecting that he blames you for their friendship ending. You couldn’t care less.

You had snuck out for the first time, to meet Taehyung at his house, and you would still be doing it even if Jungkook approved or not. It was his damn fault.

You still would’ve been in the busy part of the town’s bowling alley, Taehyung all over you. You weren’t really worried. The crowded part of the lot made it easy for the town’s druggies and smokers to do it safely, and no one would suspect a thing. Same with others like you and Taehyung. Thank god he had snatched the last spot in the corner of the asphalt lot.

“Ow!” You yelped loudly at the tug of your hair, Taehyung’s elbow leaning heavily on it. He pulled away from our neck, already looking mangled with the same crazy grin you’ve fallen in love with these past few weeks. He moves your hair safely out of the danger zone, offering a small ‘sorry’. He dives back into your skin, tongue lapping over the expanse of your neck before biting harshly. You sigh lazily, hand moving up into his hair as he placed the final kisses over his hickies.

He surges up to kiss you, falling right in line with him as your other hand makes quick work of feeling his naked body. Both of yours together, save for the underwear you both had on. You feel how toned he is, each muscle moving under his skin as he adjusts himself again between your legs, making you bite your lip.

Euphoric as you feel, you’re curious.

“Do you miss Kook? Be honest.”

Taehyung groans, head coming up from the trail he was leaving right above the hem of your bra. “You’re killing my boner, Y/N. I don’t wanna talk about your brother while I’m bout to fling this bra to the front seat.” You snort, laughing into your arm as Taehyung does the same. You grab his hand, lacing together your fingers as you bring his actions to a stop.

“babe, I'm serious. I just— I feel guilty sometimes.” You know that you shouldn’t, but it eats at you. “You’ve been friends since the third grade. I didn’t want to get in the middle of it.” Taehyung pulls away, a more serious expression on his features.

“I know. I do love kook— I always will, but it's his fault. If he can’t support us being together, then he’s just not a real one.”

You snicker at the phrase. “Just please let me know, okay? I understand, but I dunno. I always thought you guys would be each other's best man. Stupid things like that,” you hum, the fingers that were traveling up your back landed on your hip, playing with the band on your thong.

“I will. I’ll probably apologize to him soon, but not yet. I don’t want him watching my every move.” He grinned as he kissed you, trailing down your jaw. “Plus isn’t it fun like this? I think it’s a little sexier to fuck you in private.” You rolled your eyes, his cock hard against your thigh now as your face turns red.

“You’re so embarrassing,” you mumble, rolling over mentally. You’ll let the argument sit for tonight, hands resuming the schedule of moving down his navel until your nails hit the spot just under his boxers. Taehyung hums, rolling his cock into your hand.

Taehyung shrugs. “Stop acting so shy, you’re not a virgin,” he protests, hand on the back of your thigh as he brings it up against his hip, rutting into you like he was actually fucking you. “Not anymore at least.” Your face reddens as he mentioned it, remembering how you both had your first time together. But this wasn’t it. This was less innocent than you had been in the past.

You let out a soft moan at the action as he did it again, hand pressing to the fogged window as he grinned. He loved grinding against you, getting you more than riled up, his hand moving up your sternum. He’s quick with removing your bra, hickies from past endeavors laying on the skin of your chest. Taehyung has to lean back down, tongue lapping over your nipple, knowing he’s going to remark his territory.

It’s like electricity every time, your body hot against the cool leather of his chevy malibu. You love the way he toys with your nipples, biting them just enough to tease you, and not hurt you. He leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses to your ribcage, fingers dangerously low on your hip before they’re moving over your underwear. His fingers press against you through the fabric and you can start to feel it dampen as he rubs it slowly up and down.

“Fuck,” you whine, bucking into his hand. “Stop teasing.”

Taehyung’s eyes are shining with a new temptation, pulling your underwear down a bit to twist your clit between the pad of his fingers. His cock was definitely awake now, a dangerous grin on his face as he leaned over you.

“mmm, I think you should beg, like how you were doing last time.”

Your face bursts into flames at the reminder of how you were acting the last time. You’re not sure what the hell had gotten into you, but Taehyung was making you do a lot of embarrassing things. A part of you didn’t mind if it was pleasing him.

“Shut up,” you mumble, instantly whining at the loss of his fingers. He pulled your underwear back up to your hips and leaned back.

“So should I drive you home and drop you off while you’re pussy is dripping, or are you going to beg as I asked?” Fuck. You groaned, pulling him back. You definitely couldn’t go back home. “Did that hit a spot? You would be screwed if I made you go back home. You’d have to ride something to get rid of all this tension right here.” His fingers are moving the thong to the side, middle finger in down to the knuckle. You arch a little, his words making your head spin.

“Something to satisfy that greedy pussy like I do, and you can’t do that when your brother is in the next room, so I suggest you start begging, brat.”

You moan again, hand holding his forearm, nails digging into his skin. You loved it when he got like this. Dominant and demanding, god it made you crazy.

But begging was so embarrassing. “Fuck.. please—“

“Please, what?”

The blonde barely gave you time to even respond as he demanded another answer. You look up at him innocently, at least as innocently as you could with two of his fingers pumping your pussy.

“f-fuck me, please,” you begged, hips pushing down on his fingers eagerly as you bite your lip to muffle the noises. “hhh please fuck m-me into the seats, please.” You can tell he’s not satisfied. You wanted to curl and die from embarrassment. You knew you’d have to get lewder, his fingers working into you just right as your hand gripped the seatbelt dangling over your head.

“I dunno if you really want it,” he hummed normally, fingers coming out of you, glistening. He wastes no time sticking them into his mouth, cleaning them off.

You whined. “Please, I’ll d-do anything.. I’ll let you fuck my face against t-the window to sh-show everyone just how big your cock is— daddy.”

“Ohoho,” he laughed, not halting any actions as he pulls off your underwear to deposit it behind his head, pushing his boxers low enough to let his cock fall heavy on your slit. It wasn’t nearly enough, to feel it pulsing against your clit. “Keep going.” You can tell he’s living for the way you’re talking, eyes lidded as he’s fucking his cock up and down your folds, not daring to go inside.

“D-did daddy enjoy t-that name?” You try to act coy, but it fails. The bratty demeanor drops as his hand runs between the valley of your breasts, right onto your neck, applying force. “please... I want to feel y-your cock in m-my stoma—“ Taehyung watches your face as your words drop off, his cock moving into you at once until he physically couldn’t go anymore. You both were breathing heavily, the blonde unable to wait as his thumb moves over your lips.

“God you talk— so fucking sexy Y/N.” He pushed the thumb in your mouth and you immediately sucked on it, eyes watching him as he pulled out. He pushes his cock back in even harder, your back moving against the leather as his hand slips from the window to hold the back door handle. “You’re such a good.. a good girl when you b-beg for my cock.” The words light your stomach on fire. The past two times you guys had done anything, it was never like this. It was intimate and lustful sure. But it was pure. Right now, it was lust drive completely, Taehyung’s pupils blown out as he glared at you. You had never called each other names before, but you definitely reacted to what he said.

“m-move,” you choked out, lips running dry from how fast you were breathing. He grips your neck like a handle, hips snapping into yours as your leg moves off the side of the seat. “M-my fucking god… feels so fucking good.” Taehyung grins, leaning down to kiss you sloppily, licking into your mouth. You catch his tongue the best you can around the moans, his hips meeting yours every other second it seems. The soft radio plays tame impala in the background, but it doesn’t drown out the sound of his hips slapping your thighs, and the way he’s groaning.

It’s low enough to turn into a growl, the blonde’s eyes watch as he can see the faint outline of his dick in your stomach. The skin moves with him, and he’s fascinated by the hit, only fueling him to go deeper.

“Fucking look at that— fuck,” he moaned head tilted back a bit before he’s hovering over you. His chain dangles in your face as he fucks you hard enough that you’re convinced there’s gonna be bruises where he’s holding your hips for dear life. “Taking m-my cock like it’s the o-only thing you know how to do, and I bet it f-feels good in this tummy of yours huh?” You nod helplessly, whimpering as he grabs your hand and laces the fingers, pinning it to the leather behind your head.

“s-shit, hhh, it feels— god daddy it f-feels good,” you moan, voice cracking as he starts to move even faster. “D-do you l-like that name?”

He nods, eyes shutting for a bit as he looks up to the ceiling of the car, enjoying how tight you are around his cock. He takes the hand off of your neck, pinning both hands over your head as he absolutely drills you, making you whine.

“I do, fuck I do.. the way you say t-that and my fucking name—“ he chokes, pulling your legs up so he can get in at a deeper angle. “I h-have half the mind to fuck your f-face into this god d-damn seat.” Your eyes shut at the words, your high approaching dangerously close considering how deep he was in you. Eight inches didn’t go sparingly, rubbing against the best part of you, making your toes curl.

“t-then do it,” you challenge him, arching up into his chest as he kisses you to shut you the hell up. His head was spinning, loving the way your body reacted to him and opened up to him. He’s quick to forget about your hands, which are on him almost instantly as he regains the position on your neck.

“Y-you think I won’t?” God you fucking loved that voice. The low baritone sound of his words made you a mess. “T-think I won’t make you c-call Yoongi right now wh-while I slam this tight cunt into the ground.” You whined at it, his pace increasing as you gripped the seats, barely able to breathe as he choked you harder.

You’re honestly ready to cum, but as soon as the pleasure reached its peak, Taehyung was pulling out. You can’t even figure out which way is up before he’s grabbing you from between your thighs, flipping you over. It starts as soon as it stopped, his hand on the back of your neck as the side of your face is smushed to the seat.

Taehyung grins lazily, too fucked out for his own good as he slaps your ass loudly. You yelp at the action, jolting forward at the collision. “Look at this fucking ass.. n-never have I wanted to bury my cock into some—something so bad before.”

The blonde pushes his thumb into your wet cunt, spitting violently into your pussy, watching it drip. He followed it with his dick, filling you up instantly as you arched into the seats. His hand is twisting in your hair, wrapping around his fingers before he’s forcing you to look at the ceiling.

“I s-spit in that fucking cunt— cause it's mine,” he groaned, and you nodded the best you could. Your throat was tired, every moan bouncing with how hard he was fucking you, thighs trembling.

“taehyung— my god, tae,” you moaned, turning back a bit to see his ab muscles working overtime, moving tautly under the skin as he drilled you. “G-god I'm gonna—“

“Good girl,” he praised, watching sickly as his cock disappeared into your wet folds, watching your ass bounce with every thrust. “Cum on my cock, baby girl, please.” Now he was the one begging, voice getting whiny and airy, thrusts getting sloppy as he tried to keep hitting the spot he was. You couldn’t even think anymore, the slow climb to your climax was irritating almost, before you feel two pads against your clit, rubbing it side to side. You definitely weren’t going to last now, hips bucking as you tried to warn your boyfriend.

“g-god fucking damn,” Taehyung whined, feeling you squeeze him airtight before you cum hard on him.

You’re moaning over and over again, and a little too loudly for taehyung’s own liking, hand covering your mouth as he finally had come inside you too. He cursed loudly, not even fucking you anymore. He buried himself in you to let out his cum, groaning as he felt it flood your pussy.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, wanting to slump against the seat but Taehyung’s hand is keeping you steady. He pulls out his cock, whining at the feeling as he spreads your lips open to watch the cum fall out. You swat his hand away at the action, trying to catch your breath as you flip onto your back, pulling him gently by the chain to come to lay with you.

“You’re tight as hell,” he breathed, making you laugh loudly, still out of breath. He kissed your forehead softly, followed by your entire face, making sure you were okay. This was always the best part. The aftercare, and feeling how much he really cared for you as he cleaned you both up the best he could before forfeiting to exhaustion.

“You’re such an idiot,” you mumble finally as he lays with you again, kissing him slowly on the lips. “I love you.” Taehyung smiled at the words, turning you back as he kissed you back, holding you close. You didn’t care about Jungkook anymore. You loved him and you wanted him. No matter what that came with. You wanted to be with him.

“I love you too,” he mumbles, right against your lips before kissing you again. You wanted it to stay like this forever. Care-free, enjoyable. You know that once you get out of this car and return to your own, you’ll have to face your brother again. You’d have to keep facing him every day until you could come clean to him, and who knows how long that’ll be. For now, you relax into Taehyung’s arms. Who knows when you’d get a chance like this again.

The next morning was, as usual, the usual glow of sex on your face. You may have been a little sore, but you couldn’t care less. The night, any night with Taehyung, had you on cloud nine. You could tell he wanted you, not your body. He had worshipped you as no boy had done before. Your head was over the moon.

Even as a relief, it was still irritating to receive your period the next morning. You shuffle through the locker, grabbing the emergency tampons and shoving them into your pocket. The locker shuts and you’re ready to break it to the bathroom, but you’re almost clotheslined by an arm.

“Nice vampire bite.” The voice is venomous and sour. You already knew it was Yoongi before you ripped your eyes to meet his. “Another guy who is just using you.” You scoff while trying to move past him, but he’s larger than you. Encasing you to the lockers.

The laugh is evil. “You’re a fucking pussy, Y/N. You were sooo hurt by my comment that you had to send your brother's bitch of a lap dog to come ‘straighten me out’ huh?” Your heart is pounding in your ears, scared of what he was going to do next. You doubt he was going to do anything so drastic.

“Guess it didn’t stick with you, huh?” You retort quickly, watching as others were crowding the hallway because of the previous bell.

For that reason, he leans in. “If someone says they’re with you, for any other reason than fucking you? They’re lying.”

Your eyes water, failing to meet his gaze. You have half the mind to slap him, but you’re not even sure what you’re going to say next. Not when a flash of a blonde is grabbing the menace by his collar, pushing him back into the locker. The grip Taehyung has on his shirt is deadly, the usual pink hue to his knuckles are white out of anger. He pulls the raven-haired senior off the wall just to slam him again, teeth bared. Eyes narrowed, not backing down from the challenge. Any other day, you would’ve found this extremely hot.

“Say one more fucking thing about her.”`

Yoongi snorts. “Sorry, bitch boy, did I hit a nerve? Surprised you’re defending her after all the sneaking around you’ve been doing.” Taehyung didn’t even know how the fuck he knew about you guys, but he didn’t care. Taehyung was seeing red right now, taking every ounce of restraint he could muster to not crack his face. “Haven’t gotten tired of her yet? You will soon.”

“How the fuck would you know?” Taehyung snaps. “Why do you even care? It’s been almost two months.” Yoongi’s eyes snap over to you, noticing Jungkook right by your side as he tries to guide you away. You’re frozen.

“Why do you care? You aren’t even together— all you are is Jungkook’s bitch.” Taehyung couldn’t keep it together anymore, ready to wind back his arm before he notices the crowd, his former best friend front, and center. He backs as quickly as he tackled him, ready to walk to his next class. “Right, wouldn’t want to expose our little secret? Cause what the fuck is she to you?”

Taehyung turns on his heels, arm pulling back as he wound up to hit him before a large hand is holding his. It was the school security, pushing Taehyung towards the office. He turned to check on you, eyes wide as you and your brother were absent. The blonde had to sit in the office and listen to an hour of scolding, finally getting off with detention. He doesn’t even bother going home, immediately making his way to your house.

He thought a lot about what had happened, a pit turning in his stomach. He probably just confirmed any of Jungkook’s suspicions, watching him freak out over you like that. But the blonde didn’t care. Part of him was hoping you weren’t home facing Jungkook’s wrath, and another part of him was proud of what happened today. If anything, that showed Jungkook how much Taehyung really cared for you.

None of that mattered. Jungkook would still pick his own side.

The said raven was watching you sleep peacefully. He couldn’t believe that two boys were fighting over his little sister, one being his best friend. It was so idiotic and pointless. He’s a little relieved that Taehyung was there for you, but he couldn’t ignore what Yoongi said. ‘Your little secret’? He suspected they were meeting up behind his back, and that only enraged him even more. He didn’t want to have to deal with another boy breaking your heart.

Would Taehyung ever do that?

Jungkook is startled out of his thoughts at the sound of the doorbell, opening it to see Taehyung. Both of their stomachs are wrenching in their core, the still silence is unsettling. Never in his life did Taehyung think there would be a sour moment, yet here it was.

“She’s asleep. What do you need?” The tone hurts. It’s sour and stern, and foreign. A tone that he’s never heard come out of Jungkook’s mouth, and it makes him lose his train of thought. His fingers play idly with the strings on his sweater.

He inhales. “Dude, look. I know— I fucked up, and I’m sorry. You know I would never hurt her like that. Even if I did, I know the consequences.” Taehyung wanted to roll over and just apologize, but he needed to stand his ground. “What has you so bent? You know me, Kook. What’s so bad about us being together if we’re both happy.”

Jungkook shakes his head, arms crossed. “That’s not the point.”

“How is it not?”

“You went behind my back and got with her, even after I told you not to— the one thing I ask you not to do, and you do it. It puts me in an uncomfortable situation, and now it is for her too.”

Taehyung scoffs. “Because of Yoongi? What the hell did you want me to do? If you were there and heard him talking that way about her, you would’ve done the same.” Taehyungs anger is boiling now, thinking about the situation. “But you weren’t, so I had to do your job and take care of it.”

Taehyung immediately regrets saying that, considering the door slams in his face. He groans. I’m a fucking idiot.

The Blonde trudged back to his own house, head full. He knew all of this was a bad idea, hence why he was hesitant to be with you in the first place. Unfortunately, once he had been with you, the want was overbearing. To just give it up over one stupid day? He couldn’t just let you go.

Taehyung finally feels some weight drop as he falls into bed, more exhausted than he’s ever been in a while. The frame on his bedside tables hurts the familiar faces of you and Jungkook alongside the blonde on his sixteenth birthday. He had the biggest crush on you ever and to be honest, he’s not sure he’s stopped ever since you bandaged his knee in the third grade. It sounds so fucking dumb, but he can’t help smiling at the thought.

It makes sense why none of his other relationships worked out, considering he was always looking for you in other girlfriends. That's why He can’t let you go, and it’s why his heart leaps when he sees you calling.

“Hey,” he breathes, relief flooding his body. You take a bit to respond, chewing words around in your mouth.

“Hey... I heard you and Jungkook outside so.. thank you, for dealing with Yoongi.”

Taehyung stammered. “You’re not mad?”

“Well,” you sigh, laying back into your pillows. “I don’t agree with how you handled it, but.. you did it for me, and I love you for that.” Taehyung’s heart restarts as he sits up, a dorky smile on his face.

“I love you too, Y/N…” You smiled, butterflies as you sighed. It made you happy to hear that. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna talk to Jungkook and see why he’s really bent. Maybe I’ll change his mind.”

You shrug. “I dunno if he’ll ever get over it, it really irritates him.” You could not pinpoint why, and it irritated you even more.

“I know, but I have to try.” Taehyung groaned. He was a simp. “Imma see what the real reason is.”

Even as you two talked on the phone, it lifted your mind. After everything with Yoongi today, your mind racing as it finally relaxes once you settle into bed. Taehyung’s voice runs through your ears and you think about the couple of months you’ve had with him. A little carefree and mischievous. You just wanted to go back, and not have to face anything tomorrow.

The morning is lonely for Taehyung. A morning where usually it would be him and Jungkook, it was just him. No texts, no screenshots from the game last night, no sitting in his car while all of you sang horrible karaoke. It just wasn’t the same, and he hated pretending like it was. He finally got to school, opening his locker. The day was just as dull, sitting alone at lunch while you and your brother sat with his friends. You wanted to sit with him so badly, but you knew that Jungkook and Taehyung had to resolve things before you could be together. And it was so dramatic, and for what?

You stabbed at the pasta your mom had cooked last night, eyeing the devils incarnate across the room. Yoongi’s eyes were on you and you wanted to do nothing more than shoving his face into his cold pizza. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to start more drama. You wanted to go home and have a nice calm weekend… texting your boyfriend… who wasn’t yours but, it’s all the same.

The day gets duller as it goes on for both parties. Taehyung is mulling through the last period of the day. Of course, it was math.

He gated algebra and it blows that it’s the last fucking class. He feels refreshed once the last bell rings, but the walk to his locker is just as lonely as the last month had been feeling. Taehyung unlocked his locker, ready to just leave already. He would be angrily shoving books into his locker now before a picture falls freely out of his locker. He can barely recognize the interior of his car before it feels like everyone is staring at him.

His throat is so fucking dry, he can barely breathe. He picks up the photo, stomach-dropping into his fucking ass.

His brown eyes round the hallway, seeing everyone has received the same picture, and everyone was staring at him.

He had never run so fast in his life once his brain had processed what was happening. He rounds the corner, to see your locker and you’re not there. But it’s wide fucking open, thousands of copies scattered on the floor and the metal door. Jungkook stood, motionless and silent, as he looked at the photos. A million pictures of his best friend and his sister— making out in a car. Taehyung, who was still stumbling over his shock, had watched Jungkook slam the locker shut and approach him. God he was ready to shit his pants, for his life was about to flash before his eyes. He braced his muscles for any form of attack. It doesn’t come.

“Open your eyes, shit head.”

Taehyung blinked an eye open. “You aren’t gonna kick my ass?”

“No,” he grumbled. Taehyung wanted to laugh considering that nickname from him sounded so good. Like they were back to normal. “Now isn't the time to be worried about you and my sister, fuck. that. I’m not worried about this, I’m worried about what fucking prick would send this shit around, she’s a fucking minor.” There, Taehyung can see it. Jungkook’s scared. He’s scared for his sister, and if they had switched places, Taehyung would feel the same way. He can understand where Jungkook is coming from now, with his entire argument. He wanted to protect her from assholes like this, and as much as Taehyung could argue with him; he’ll never understand what it was like to have a baby sister.

But he drops it to save his ass. Taehyung remembers to breathe once his shirt gets dropped, but he’s still being pulled back towards his locker. Jungkook collecting all the pictures he can, shoving them deep into the trash. Cause fuck this. Jungkook hated the idea of them together, and truthfully he has no clue why. He wants to protect her, but there’s another layer. That aside, they were gonna find out who the hell did this.

“Kook. you need me to spell it o—“

Jungkook slammed a poor kid into a locker to grab the picture from him, ripping it in half. “The moment I find out who the fuck this is, I’m gonna smash his face into the fucking ground.” Jungkook was filled with rage, disposing every last picture he possibly could before dragging Taehyung out to the lot. He shoved his bag into the backseat, holding the raven in place.

“Bro,” he said calmly, looking at his best friend. “Who else? it’s Yoongi. he was talking all that shit in the hallways, like who else?” Jungkook nodded. it made sense. Yoongi was a prideful person, but who else would go through the trouble of humiliating her like this.

“So what now?”

Taehyung shrugged, leaning against the hood of his car. “The only thing I’m thinking of is that we go kick his fucking ass.” Jungkook rounded the car quickly as they both got in, engine revving.

“Sounds like a plan.”

The drive to Yoongi’s hangout was silent. It was a little bittersweet that they were going to kick his ass in the same parking lot where those pictures took place. Taehyung was admittedly a little nervous. He knew you didn’t like fights or conflict and this was the opposite of everything you didn’t like. If he wanted to make a point, that’s a decision he’d have to live with.

Jungkook grumbled irritably. “God, the moment I see him I’m gonna rip his head off. What a fucking— oh my god.” The raven’s voice cut off as they pulled up to the bowling alley, noticing Yoongi there with three of his friends. The two shared a look, and they were both scared shitless.

“How are we gonna beat them? Four against two ain’t fair,” Taehyung whined, Jungkook throwing the car into park. Jungkook was trying to strategize in his head, but the only conclusion he had was to face this shit head-on. They both exit the car, rounding the lot to meet the four sitting on the edge of Yoongi’s car.

Yoongi’s the first to notice, jumping a bit but posing like he was a threat once his friends noticed.

“So, it is true that you’re his lapdog?” Yoongi laughed. “I was right about you, and in the hallway, I bet you wanted to kick my ass huh?”

Taehyung stepped forward. “I want to kick your fucking ass right now. Where you the one who printed out those pictures?”

“Yeah.”

He admitted it effortlessly, the plain smirk on his smug face was seriously pissing Taehyung off.

“What the fuck for?” Taehyung’s fists were balled as the elder boy stepped closer, unable to resist punching him in the face.

Yoongi shrugged. “‘Cause I wanted her to see that every boy she’ll ever meet wants to fuck her; nothing more, nothing less.”

Taehyung wasn’t sure if that was a backhanded compliment or not, but Jungkook was the first to jump. His fist connected with Yoongi’s jaw followed by a loud crack. That’s when the fight broke out.

You sat in your bed, bundled in your brother's sweatshirt as you flipped through Netflix on your mac. You were barely paying attention considering you were chewing off all your nails. You hadn’t heard from Jungkook or Taehyung since you had left school. You were a little distraught, but honestly, there was a big event every week at your school and you prayed this would blow over. You knew it was Yoongi anyways and you kind of figured that those two idiots would have done something by now. Or maybe Jungkook still wouldn’t forgive him after this. Maybe they would still be mad— maybe they weren’t even together.

Your head was swarming with thoughts but you were too exhausted to pick up the phone. You turn to another episode of some random crime show, laying back into the mountain of pillows before your stomach lurches at the sound of a car door. Two doors to be exact, and they slam shut. You spring from the bed, racing to the top of the stairs. Your eyes meet with two boys.

“You’re fucking crazy,” Taehyung laughs, wiping the blood that’s dripping from his nose while Jungkook’s laugh rings through the previously silent house. It was like music to hear them laughing together, shoulders bumping as they made it into the entryway of the house. It takes a bit to realize that they’ve had their asses kicked. Like they were jumped.

You race down the stairs. “Oh my god. what the hell happened?” Jungkook’s lip was split, eye bruising slowly as he limped over to you. “Did you two idiots get hit by a car or something?” The two laugh in sync, fist-bumping each other as Jungkook waves off the concern.

“Believe it or not, we won.”

You snort. “Won what?” Taehyung kicks off his shoes, holding his sleeve to his nose. You notice his eyebrow is split as well, knuckles bruised.

“We went and kicked Yoongi’s ass. He had some randoms with him but we came through in the end,” Jungkook breathed. “I’m glad you were there with me, bro.” You let your heart warm for them. You knew they were hurting, watching the two boys hug. You knew they meant it, them both pulling away as Jungkook hugged you as well.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do more when Yoongi was first acting up. I should’ve straightened him out the first night you told him about us.”

You shake your head, hugging him tighter. “Shut up. You just got your ass handed to you, don’t apologize.” You three laugh and god, it feels good. It feels normal until your eyes linger on Taehyung slowly. You wanted to hug him and kiss him, despite his face being bloody. You’re ready to retreat to the kitchen, but Jungkook stops you. He pushes you towards the blonde while he starts to rummage the fridge for ice.

You’re hesitant and so is Taehyung, but once you felt it was okay, you moved. It felt free and honest, holding his face in your hands to kiss him. He returns it with equal force, slow and meaningful. He pulls away, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Yoongi won’t be a problem anymore,” Taehyung breathed, hands on your waist.

You laugh sadly, thumbing over the mark on his eyebrow. “You barely made it out alive, dork… but thank you. Seriously, both of you,” You mumble, eyes looking to your brother. You’re ready to start a speech but Taehyung cuts you off, the blonde practically trembling next to you.

“I know this may be weird, but I’m sorry for sneaking around with your sister. This is gonna sound so formal and cheesy, and it’s making me want to puke, but I love her a—“

Jungkook groans. “God just shut up.” Jungkook was doubled over, fake puking noises coming from his mouth. You laugh a little, a thousand weights off of your shoulder as your fingers lace with Taehyung’s. “I was a little mad in the beginning cause you’re my baby sister… and you’re my best friend. That put’s me in a difficult spot.”

He continues. “Even so, I can tell that it won’t be an issue. Taehyung cares about you, I can see that now. Especially with how hard he was kicking that idiot’s ass—“ You snort, punching Jungkook’s arm. But he shrugs. “I’m serious. I’m fine with you guys. I want you to be happy and if that’s with each other, I can live with that.” You hum happily, pulling them both into a group hug. The love you felt from both of them was radiating.

Of course, Jungkook had to ruin the moment.

“I better not see you guys making out, or I will throw up on you, got it?”

You and Taehyung swear to him, laughing as you three trailed to the kitchen so you could start healing their cuts. Jungkook, however, falls behind. His heart feels heavy and before he had no clue why. He watched you two kiss, the hand on your waist making his stomach drop. He knows now why he didn’t want you guys to be together.

He didn’t want to share Taehyung with you for a specific reason. One he’s not ready to admit yet.

He knows it’s resentful and jealous.

#bts #bts smut #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #v x reader #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook

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kindness-ricochets · 3 years

Note

I’ve been seeing a lot of thoughts and hc of autistic wylan lately and you seem to also be a fan of the concept. May I ask why? Exactly? I could definitely kinda see it but wanna hear you thoughts you’re always so eloquent

Hey there anon! Sorry for the delay—I’m guessing you already found an answer to this elsewhere while I was off Tumblr for a bit, but just in case, here are my thoughts. This will be heavily personal, but… well, you can’t very well ask an autistic person about autism and expect neutrality!

Autism is different for everyone and can be difficult to pin down, so while Wylan is arguably autistic, he misses several beats that for me would have made him definitively and undeniably autistic. For example, when the bells start to ring, triggering black protocol—I work in a place with a lot of bells and am frequently caught too close to one and normally press my hands over my ears until it’s over because that sound is like shrapnel raking across my insides. All of them. Not just the ear and brain parts. Wylan doesn’t have that sort of visceral reaction, but that may just mean he doesn’t have the same sensitivities that I do, or to the same level. He also never, that I recall, eats meat—as weird as that might sound, eating meat is incredibly complicated with heightened sensitivities to taste and texture. I’m not sure how old I was when I realized it was strange to get up from the table to spit out my food because it viscerally repulsed me. So it might be that Wylan is autistic and has different experiences than I do. Those are things I would include in a story as major indicators of a character being autistic. This might also mean that his father’s way of raising him taught him to hide unusual reactions and stimming behaviors. It’s not that much of a reach to assume a man who tried to abuse the dyslexia out of his son would take the same approach to autism. (More on autism and abuse later.)

So while I’m going to lay out why I read Wylan as autistic, that’s why I think it’s valid to read him as not being autistic as well. Both are valid.

A final caveat, I am well overdue for a reread of the books, so I likely left something out or could have found better examples. Take this as a few of my reasons for a personal headcanon. Anyone who feels differently, that's fine! We can each read things our own way :)

1 - Hyperfixation: The way Wylan loves music

Most of the Crows’ backgrounds color how they see the world: Kaz’s shrewdness, Matthias’s tactical thinking and superstition, Inej’s faith and Suli wisdom, etc. That’s a sign of good character writing. But very little of Wylan’s upbringing seems to have influenced how he sees the world. It comes closest when he thinks about how his father would scorn his new friends, but we never see that scorn from Wylan.

The way a hyperfixation feels, it’s like you’ve always lived in a close parallel world, never fully been a part of the other one where it seems like everyone else lives, but suddenly there’s this bright shining piece of your soul laced through the other world. It lets you connect, it lets you exist in their realm, and you can’t help but filter everything new through that lens because it’s the brightest, most wonderful thing. (I had been between hyperfixations for a while when I started a new job; six months into that work, I read Crooked Kingdom. One of my coworkers thought I had fallen in love, it was that marked a difference.)

So, combining these: Wylan never really acts like he was part of his father’s world, and indeed is in some ways separate from the other Crows, but he parses everything through music, his hyperfixation. He sets words to music to remember them, like he does with the contract. Even his own anxiety is made sense of through music, when in his first narrated chapter, he sets it to music: what am I doing here what am I doing here…. When he’s overwhelmed, his thoughts are “a jangle of misplayed chords”. The Crows have backgrounds that influence how they react to the world, but Wylan’s hyperfixation is his means of experiencing and understanding the world.

2 - Literal thinking: Wylan responds to exact words

In this post, I went into detail on the line where Wylan suggested waking up men to kill them. Wylan is generally unsupportive of killing people—Oomen, Smeet’s clerk, his father… he advocates not-murder in each of these situations. Accepting his aversion to murder, his suggestion to wake men up and kill them seems like a genuine reaction to Jesper saying he doesn’t want to kill unconscious men. Wylan takes things literally.

This happens the most with Jesper, probably because Jesper talks to Wylan the most. Nina and Matthias don’t really register him past how he might be useful, Inej is usually quite direct, and Kaz is very deliberate when he speaks with Wylan. This really interests me because Kaz tends to vary his speech more than the others do, he adapts more to being around other people. He jokes a little with Jesper, spars with Nina, speaks more openly and more sharply with Inej, and he’s precise with Wylan. Kaz may not know what autism is, but he recognizes what’s effective with Wylan.

Another example is when Wylan is sketching the Ice Court plans and Jesper says it looks like a cake. There are plenty of valid responses here: pointing out that concentric circles look like lots of things, that it’s just a sketch, telling Jesper to stop looking over his shoulder. Instead, Wylan says that the Ice Court is sort of like a cake. That… doesn’t sound like something Wylan would normally say. He’s not addressing the whole situation, he’s addressing the specific words Jesper said.

One of the most heartbreaking examples of this (to me, anyway) is with Marya. Wylan does the same thing with his mother, when she asks if he’s there for her money and says she hasn’t got any, and his response is, “I don’t either.” We understand as readers that what Marya is communicating here is that she is so accustomed to being utterly ignored unless she is being used, and if she told Wylan that no one visited but to take advantage and she assumed he was here for the same reason, he would say it wasn’t the case. But he just responds to the immediate statement.

There are a lot of examples of this.

3 — 0% perception, 100% creativity

Wylan can identify things that don’t make sense or that he doesn’t understand, but at the beginning of the series he can’t make leaps, only ask questions. On the Ferolind, he wonders about the source of water at the Ice Court; though Kaz doesn’t say as much, he was clearly wondering, too, because he eventually figured out the underground river. There’s an interesting parallel here where, in the beginning of Crooked Kingdom, Wylan asks a question about how they’ll break into Smeet’s and Kaz tells him to use his eyes instead of running his mouth—at which point Wylan is able to figure it out. I don’t think this is because he never tried before, though, but because no one ever bothered to teach him. Kaz can be harsh but he gives harsh corrections rather than harsh rejections and Wylan learns from him.

It’s hard to understand the world for people with autism. The world is designed and run by and for people whose minds are fundamentally different from ours, whose thoughts and experiences are unlike ours. Imagine trying to learn English or Spanish or Mandarin or any other spoken language if your first language was olfactory. That’s sort of what it’s like for someone with autism to just get dropped into the world and expected to figure this out.

This can be attributed to Wylan’s upbringing, but I disagree with that because none of the others were brought up in the Barrel, either, and Wylan doesn’t understand trade or politics with any special skill. Kaz wasn’t born in the Barrel, but he managed to go from “stealing is wrong” to “wrong isn’t my concern” real quick; Colm Fahey didn’t raise his son on gambling and firefights; the Ghafas never expected their daughter to be away from the family. Only Nina has relevant training—and even that’s precious little, she left school way too early. The others figured it out; Wylan needed a bit more help. He also seems surprised by the way his father conducts business. Wylan takes things on face value—like the time he’s surprised someone would do something, simply because it’s unlawful. This is something he expresses to a group of gangsters. He’s never been taught the way of any world and these things are not intuitive to him.

But Wylan isn’t stupid.

He doesn’t know how to understand the world, but he does understand how things go together. Given a pointy diamond, a handle, and a screw, he cut through Grisha glass. He carries flashbangs and magic napalm, he recreates military hardware—Wylan understands how to make things interact for a specific result. But to me the most telling thing isn’t just that he puts together chemical pieces, it’s that he figured out Jesper controlled bullets. He saw the pieces and put them together.

Wylan can understand when things don’t make sense, but he can’t make sense of them—yet when he understands things at their basic level, he understands them without preconception, for what they are. This is a very autistic way of thinking about things, it goes back to the literalism. He can’t make the leaps of logic other people can, but he also doesn’t make the assumptions they do—“I’ve never heard of a bullet Grisha, so that’s not a thing” vs “Well Jesper’s an almost impossibly good shot and he controls metal and bullets are metal, so why not?”

4 - Broken brain/body connection

Wylan’s great at chemistry and drawing and playing flute or piano—but he’s something of a disaster other times. This is in particular contrast to the other characters, all of whom are physically adept. Meanwhile it’s a challenge for Wylan to climb a rope ladder and he spends a full paragraph trying to figure out what to do with his hands. It’s easy to say, well, he’s used to a sedentary lifestyle, but at this point he’s not. He’s worked in the tannery for months. He’s just physically awkward.

I have less to say on this point only because it’s about something I don’t fully understand myself. I don’t really understand what it would be like to have a body that just… does things? Like normal stuff? Without tics and stims. No idea. Only that Wylan’s discomfort in and seeming lack of mastery of his own body feels very relatable to me.

5 - Abuse

One of the most familiar things about Wylan is how he has been so thoroughly abused and broken down that he’s afraid to do or say much of anything. Again, this is a place his background can be an obscuring factor. Of course Wylan didn’t think to blow up the walls when the first met the parem-juiced jurda and got trapped, he’s a spoiled rich kid! Except, he also startled when Jesper said his name later. Wylan didn’t hesitate because he was spoiled, he hesitated because he had no confidence.

He also thinks Kaz would laugh at him for playing music at his mother’s grave. Now, personally, I can’t see Kaz laughing at Wylan—being indifferent, thinking it’s pointless sentimentality, shaking his head, maybe commenting sharply that they need to go if they don’t have the time. But not laughing. Kaz is a snarky, sharp-edged jerk sometimes, but he doesn’t go out of his way to criticize, he just lets people know when they inconvenience him.

Wylan has been trained to identify attention as negative by an overbearing abusive father who literally saw him as less favorable than a demon. Now, that may have been hyperbole, but Jan criticized everything he could about Wylan—art, music, emotion—and made clear that he was worthless and competent to nothing. (Jan Van Eck can suck a rotten donkey dick but that’s neither here nor there.)

A lot of people with autism experience levels of bullying that have similar impacts. Or as the kids these days are calling it: we go to school. We go to school where we are weird. Where we look weird and move weird and talk about weird things and there’s a whole little bevy of asswipes to makes sure we know it. I got teased more for playing Pokemon and sitting alone reading than the kid who pissed himself onstage at assembly. (This was before Pokemon was cool. I’m old.) And that is not unusual for autistic kids. It’s also not unusual for this to be compounded by relatives or even parents who may be trying to help but don’t understand and can make things even harder.

So we can’t read social cues and we’re taught at a vicious age that everything that comes naturally to us is wrong. Imagine trying to interact in society with that background. There is no guide and most advice from neurotypical people isn’t actually what they mean. It breaks you down.

Wylan’s anxiety isn’t definitive of autism, but isn’t something that was incredibly familiar as someone whose neurodivergent experiences created a strong level of anxiety.

6 — High Compassion, Low Social Competence

Wylan isn’t very good at making friends. In fact, none of the Crows likes him much in the beginning, and only some of them soften toward him by the end. (Matthias and Nina come to respect his skills as a chemist but neither seems to particularly like him.) But you can see throughout the books that Wylan wants to connect with them and be one of them, he just… isn’t. He’s off-beat. He’s weird. He asks questions and mimics behaviors (trying to be cool and tough like Jesper, saying “mission” like Matthias does, imitating Kaz’s scheming face) but he doesn’t quite get how to adapt.

But he still cares about people. Not just them. Everyone. He cares about the people they leave in the ditch outside the prison wagon, he cares about Hanna Smeet, he cares about Alys. He cares about the people who’ll take a hit from Kaz’s sugar caper.

Wylan’s awkward social skills have undeniable big autism energy. I posit his compassion does as well. This is simply who Wylan is, and that means being someone who cares about everyone. I have nothing to back up that this is related to autism. I can say that it’s like me. (Not to brag.) I can’t turn off the part of my brain that says everyone matters. Individuals can opt out of that compassion, but they have it by default. There’s a certain agony in feeling a pull toward and love for just about everyone and yet an inability to develop meaningful connections with them, and that keen loneliness… it just burns.

Again, it’s not definitive of autism, but it’s very similar to an autistic experience.

I said in the beginning that I didn’t think Wylan certainly had autism and I stand by that, but he is a powerfully honest reflection of many people who do. So he can be understood to have autism, and that’s part of the reason some people have that headcanon.

#six of crows #wylan van eck #autism #actually autistic

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starshine583 · 3 years

Text

New Girl on the Block (13)

(Happy Valentine’s Day everybody!!! I’d say that this is a gift for the day, but this is my usual update time lol please enjoy the new chapter anyway! There’s also a mini series connected to this called Journal Entries :D)

Ch.1 / Ch.12 / Ch.14 (ao3)

Chapter 13: I’ll Make You a Deal

Lila stalked the halls of Dupont, doing her best to hide her scowl as she massaged her temples. When she offered to take Marinette’s job as Class President, she hadn’t realized how much extra work she was dumping onto herself. She thought that the title was just that: a title. Nothing more. Nothing less. Sure, she would have to verify a few things, acknowledge her classmates’ opinions towards the school system, and speak out about it as a representative towards them, but that was all. She didn’t expect it to rearrange her entire schedule towards life! Her head was pounding from the late nights of filing student complaints, her back ached from carrying this stupid binder around, and her wrist still twinged with pain from signing too many papers at once. It was ridiculous!

Lying to Bustier about those forms didn’t make it any easier either. Instead of getting to make minor additions to the papers Marinette had already written, she now had to rewrite all of the forms herself. The entire process was a nightmare, and Lila couldn’t escape. If she lied again and said that Marinette gave the forms back, that would be glorifying the girl, and she refused to do that. However, if she lied and said that she simply found the forms again, it would not only make her look suspicious, but also incompetent. She couldn’t have either of those descriptions attached to her person.

So, that left her with the agonizing option of filling them out again herself. She tried to push it onto Alya, and for the most part, she succeeded. The red-head filled out a good half before handing them back, but that still left Lila with the other half. Thus, she’s spent the last three nights in a row doing nothing but signing form after form after form. The fact that she had to use Marinette’s forms as reference only made it worse. She could practically hear the ravenette laughing at her every time she glanced over the original paperwork. It was utterly humiliating.

And don’t get her started on the amount of requests or complaints that she had to file. Everyday her classmates came to her asking for this or that or “could you change this about our classroom?”. Sometimes they would talk about the seats being too hard or the fact that they didn’t have enough recess or how the stairs were too far apart and someone could trip. Then- oh, then -there were the class trips. One request was a literal trip to Greece. Greece! Did they think she or the school was just made of money? How can they possibly be this greedy or entitled? How was Marinette able to handle it all so easily? She made it look like it was nothing!

Lila clenched her fists at her side, her nails digging into her skin. Even after running from the school with her tail between her legs, Marinette was still acting as a sharp, irritating thorn in Lila’s side.

Sparkling laughter interrupted her thoughts, and Lila turned to the two boys standing outside of the library entrance. Adrien Agreste, the golden child of the school, and Nino, his little sidekick- as far as Lila was concerned -appeared to be chatting mindlessly on their way back to class, which was typical. Adrien was always talking with somebody now-a-days. That was another problem of hers.

When Marinette first left, Adrien became distraught and distant. He began muttering to himself and not listening in class, dismissing everyone with a hum and a nod. The other students berated him for the behavior, wonderfully captured in Lila’s beautifully crafted web of words, but he hardly heard them. Or if he did, he didn’t care. He continued to write things in his notebook that certainly weren’t lesson notes and run his hand through his hair with frustration when he hit some sort of wall.

It was irritating, of course, but nothing Lila hadn’t expected. Marinette was supposed to be his “very good friend”, after all. She would have been surprised if he hadn’t mourned the loss. What she didn’t anticipate, though, was the way he bounced back.

It had to have happened a little over two weeks after Marinette left, because Lila remembered finally starting to feel comfortable in her new role of being able to lie unchallenged. She was spewing some crap about Marinette sending her mean messages, making sure her tears looked real enough and her sobs were believable, when Adrien decided to jump into the conversation. He flashed her a bright smile and, in the kindest voice she’d ever heard, asked her for the texts that Marinette had sent.

The question alone had surprised her, considering the fact that he hadn’t really spoken to anyone in a while, but that smile he held was really the thing to set her on edge. It was simply too sweet-looking for someone who had just indirectly asked for proof of her story, especially when they both knew that she was lying.

She couldn’t understand the change. He’d been cowering in the corner for the last two weeks, and yet that day, he was out for blood on her account. Why? What was the difference between the last two weeks and that day? She still doesn’t know.

Adrien’s determination towards outing her cranked up to eleven after that . He went from barely talking to one person throughout the day to talking with everyone on a constant basis, and anytime Lila so much as uttered a sentence, he was there asking questions. When did she do this, who helped her with that, how did she manage to get from one place to the other so quickly- from a naïve onlooker’s point of view, Adrien would simply appear to be interested in Lila’s stories, but she knew better. He was finding holes in her stories and using them to rip apart her words piece by piece, all while using an innocent yet confused expression to make it seem like he was trying to help her. The strategy was completely different from Marinette’s, and it ticked Lila off to no end. How was she supposed to turn crowds against him and regain her throne if he kept acting like some pure-hearted angel?

She couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t, and he knew that she couldn’t, because that’s the exact same tactic that eventually got Marinette to leave the school.

A part of her had hoped that this newfound passive-aggression would fade after a few days, but now that three weeks of constant badgering on Adrien’s account has passed, that hope has been thoroughly and relentlessly crushed. He hasn’t done much over those weeks, thankfully, but she’s had to reinforce her lies ten times the normal amount to keep it that way. That’s a tad hard to do when all of your stories are on the grand scale of things.

Even with her meticulous planning and words choices, though, one can’t escape subtle confrontation forever. She could tell that people were slowly starting to become suspicious of her stories. They were either wanting Adrien to be around during their discussions with her or were looking for holes themselves.

Watching them exchange glances during her stories made her blood boil. Why did they have to be so nosy? So picky? Can’t she have a reprieve for once in her entire life? Can’t she just lie and manipulate others without the fear of getting caught? Why did that feel like such a big request from the universe?

Adrien and Nino waved to each other, and Lila perked up. It looked like they were separating. Were they separating? Oh, please be separating. That would be the most convenient thing to happen to her all month.

Adrien split off from Nino, to her delight, and Lila beelined after the blond. His meddling had gone on long enough, and she thought it was high time someone put an end to it. That someone being her.

“Adrien!” Lila cooed, looping her arm with his and flashing a bright smile. “It’s been forever since we’ve talked just one on one, don’t you think?”

Adrien’s steps faltered, and for the briefest of moments, she saw his eyes darken. Nobody else would have noticed, especially not with the friendly smile he gave her right after, but Lila caught it. She was the only one who realized how truly despicable the model could be.

“Oh, hey Lila.” He replied with an easy, clearly fake smile. “I guess we haven’t talked alone in a while. You normally like to be at the center of the crowd.”

Lila tried not to grit her teeth and instead elected to flip her hair over her shoulder. “Well, I wouldn’t say the center. I’m just being myself, and the others seem to follow.”

Adrien hummed. “Yes, I’m sure you're a wonderful role model for all of us. It isn’t everyday we get the courtesy of having an honest and kind friend like you.”

His sarcasm was palpable, but his shining smile remained. A part of her wondered why he even bothered acting at this point. They both knew they were at war now. Niceties were only necessary when someone was clueless towards hidden motives. Adrien wasn’t, and neither was she, yet here they were. Smiling and trading snide remarks in the privacy of the empty locker room.

Lila put on a bashful expression. “Oh, please-”

“Of course,” Adrien interrupted her, “there was also Marinette. She was always ready to help someone. It’s a shame she had to transfer schools.”

Lila bit the inside of her cheek to avoid sneering. There he goes again, mentioning that ridiculous baker girl. It’s so infuriating.

“Even though she was a bully? I’m sorry, Adrien, but I don’t think you should forgive someone so easily. They’ll walk all over you if you give them too much leeway.”

Adrien slipped- or rather jerked -his arm out of Lila’s grasp as he exchanged some of his books. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

Ah, there it is. That might have been the first genuine comment he’s made during this discussion.

“What was that?” She asked with feigned politeness.

Adrien straightened and gave her another innocent smile. “Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if this could all be a big misunderstanding? The phone number that was terrorizing you wasn’t Marinette’s, after all. If you were.. mistaken.. on that story, perhaps you missed something in your other stories. Don’t you think so?”

Lila forced a smile so wide that her cheeks started to hurt. Was this his way of giving her an out? A last chance of mercy? Because if it was, she refused to take it. She’s built this kingdom with nothing but her bare hands, and she’d be darned if she decided to lie down and let him take it away just as quickly.

“I can’t say I do.”

Adrien closed his locker, a certain glint coming to his eyes when he looked at her. “Well.. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what I find. Won’t we?”

Rage crackled through Lila’s bones as Adrien walked past her, but she caught herself before doing anything rash. If she was going to counter Adrien’s sudden attacks, she needed to make a deal with him and get him off of her back just long enough to plan. And to do that, she needed to promise him what he apparently wanted most.

“What if it wasn’t her?”

Adrien stopped in the doorway, and Lila held her breath.

“..Because it wasn’t her,” he corrected, “I’ll be hoping that she comes back.”

Lila drew in a deep breath, if only to avoid screaming. Marinette, Marinette, Marinette- Why did he have to have to be so infatuated with Marinette? What could she possibly have that made Adrien want to fight against the whole school to get her back?

“Alright..” She said, completely calm. “Say you were right. If it happened to turn out that Marinette wasn’t the one responsible and I convince her to come back, will we all be able to get along?”

Bile rose to her mouth as she spoke. The very thought of running back to Marinette and asking her to come back to Dupont made Lila’s stomach churn, but this was fine. She was only promising to bring Marinette back. Promises can easily be broken.

Adrien smiled, but not like the fake, warm smiles he’d been giving her throughout their conversation. No, this one was sharp, predatory, as though he could see right through her words.

“See you in class, Lila.”

The “golden child” left the locker room then, and Lila finally gave in to her frustration and let out a growl. This was supposed to be her victory, her turf, and yet she can’t even enjoy it anymore because Adrien freaking Agreste decided to meddle in business that wasn’t his. He knew that the only reason she was willing to compromise was because he was getting to her, and that burned her up inside.

She drew in another deep breath and smoothed out her miniature ponytails. This was fine. Everything was fine. Adrien might be deciding to join the squabble a tad later than usual, but Lila invented this game. If he wanted to try his hand at her tactics and strategies, fine. He would soon realize why she was able to climb to the top in the first place.

~~~~~~~

Marinette stared out the car window with awe as they drove up the street towards Allegra’s estate. In the week that led to the group sleepover, Marinette had racked her brain day and night trying to decide what the mansion would be like. How tall would it be? How wide? Would it take up an entire street or a small square of Paris like Gabriel’s? Would there be butlers running around like in the movies or would there be a simple maid or two to keep things moving? Perhaps there wouldn’t be any hired hand at all? The excitement and anticipation made her buzz and bounce through the last few school days at Rosemary, but she refused to ask any questions during the wait for winter break. Marinette wanted the mansion to be a complete surprise. And now that she was finally here, sitting in the backseat of Allegra’s miniature limo and practically pressing her face against the window, she couldn’t be happier with that decision.

Mansions of all kinds lined the sidewalks, bigger and more elegant than she could have ever imagined. Some had marvelous fountains, while others had incredible gardens. Some had amazing walls with ingrained art that lined the premises, and one mansion even had horses grazing on their front lawn! It made her wonder why Gabriel would build his mansion in the middle of the city, or if any of these mansions might belong to Claude, Allan, or Felix.

Near the end of the street rested a long brick wall that had elaborate, white statues decorating the major corners. Marinette guessed immediately that that was Allegra’s mansion, because the wall wrapped around an enormous white house that had silver railings for the balconies and blue-ish grey tiles for the rooftops, quite contrary to the golds and dark browns that came with the other mansions. It was beautiful in its simplicity, and that seemed like something Allegra would enjoy, even if the house belonged directly to her parents.

Sure enough, the car rolled to a stop in front of the black metal gate that the brick walls led to, and the driver told Marinette to stay put as he hopped out of the vehicle. She watched quietly as he unlocked the gate by hand using a personal key and quickly found herself wiggling in her seat when he started pushing the gates open. They were so close! Allegra’s mansion was right there! If they didn’t start moving again in two seconds, Marinette might just jump out and start running.

The driver got back into the car with a small apology for the inconvenience- to which she assured him that it was fine through barely contained squeals -and they continued through the gate at a leisure pace, which killed Marinette inside. She wanted to get into the mansion now!

In an effort to remain still, her eyes flicked around the front lawn of the estate. The driveway they had pulled into appeared to be a full circle, looping around an intricate water fountain that spouted bursts of water in such a way that made the water look as though it were dancing. Diamonds of dark green grass cut through the concrete in the driveway, leading to the rest of the vibrant grass on the lawn, and a delightful mix of bushes and flowers lined the inside of the brick wall as well the outside of the mansion. It struck Marinette as quaint and refined at the same time, and her respects went out to the person- or persons -responsible for designing and maintaining the look.

Finally, the limo parked in front of these wide, marble steps that led to the front door, and the driver barely had time to open Marinette’s back door before she leapt out with her bags in her arms. If the outside was this luxurious, she couldn’t wait to see how breathtaking the inside would be.

“Thanks for the ride, sir!” She called over her shoulder as she hopped up the steps two-by-two.

“Oh, miss-!” The man yelled after her. “May I take your bags?”

Marinette skidded to a halt and turned around, ready to politely decline his offer, when another voice spoke up behind her.

“No need, Louis! I’ve got them.”

Marinette whirled back around, coming face to face with Allegra, who was now standing in the doorway with a bright smile.

The blonde reached forward to take the bags with one hand, while giving Marinette a side hug with the other. “I’m so happy you’re here! This is going to be great.”

“I know! I’ve been waiting for this all week! Your house looks amazing.”

A grin spread across Allegra’s lips, and she pulled back from the hug in favor of grabbing Marinette’s hand. “If you like it now, just wait till you see the inside.”

The two girls waltzed inside together, but as soon as she entered, Marinette couldn’t help gasping and breaking away from Allegra to run further into the house. Tiled, marble floors stretched out before her, seemingly farther than the street she had just driven down, and on the other side of the bigger-than-life foyer was a set of large, open windows that touched from the floor of the first level to the ceiling of the second level. They overlooked the backyard, which was equally as enchanting as the front yard, and a part of her had the urge to sit down and stare at them wistfully for a good hour or two.

To her left and right were a pair of long, curved stairs that led to the second floor. They matched the marble tiles on the first floor and had beautiful, metal railings that curled and twisted into different types of flowers and leaves. The railing also trailed off to the open hallways above, where Marinette could see different types of doors lined up. Her restless brain wanted to skip up the stairs, brush her hand across the smooth, black railing, and explore each and every room possible.

Her gaze dragged up to the ceiling, and her jaw fell slack yet again as she realized exactly how high the building was. The circular sunroof that signified the center of the ceiling felt higher than the Eiffel Tower itself, and Marinette was certain that if she called out, it would take at least five seconds to hear her voice echoing back to her.

“Well?” Allegra asked next to her. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Marinette blanched. “Allegra, this is incredible! Do you really live here?”

A musical laugh came from the blonde, and she nodded. “Yep. Ever since I was five. Come on, I’ll give you a tour!”

They made their way to the stairs, and Marinette eagerly ran her hand across the cool railings as she continued to look around. She couldn’t believe how astonishing everything looked. It was as though they’d taken the finest jewels and rocks on earth and merged them together to create this mansion. How did they even afford all of this?

“What did you say your mom did again?”

Allegra glanced over at her. “My mom? She’s a-”

“Hey!”

The two girls paused mid step and looked up at the open hallway. Claude stood just above them, leaning over the railing and waving with a wide grin. Allan stood behind him, also offering the girls a friendly smile as a greeting.

“Is that Marinette?” Claude called.

“Yep! She just got here.”

“Sweet!” The brunette cheered. He dashed from his place upstairs and, once he got a good enough momentum, jumped to a stop, using his socks to slide the rest of the way to the stairwell. “We’ve been waiting forever for you to show up!”

Marinette giggled and ran up the rest of the stairway to give Claude a hug. “I got my clothes together as fast as I could.”

“Oh, you’re good.” Allan assured as he came to join them. “You’re technically early anyway.”

“I thought I was.” Marinette remarked, pulling away from Claude to give Allan a small hug as well. “Is Felix here too?”

“Nope, it’s just us right now.” Claude answered with a smile. “We already had clothes here from previous sleepovers.”

“They practically have their own personal closets at this point.” Allegra snorted. Then, she gave Marinette a playful nudge. “And soon, so will you.”

Marinette smiled. She wasn’t sure that she even had enough clothes to fill another closet, but it didn’t stop her from feeling giddy towards receiving one. Having a personal closet at Allegra’s meant she would be coming over much more often, and that was something she desperately wanted to do at this point.

“Have you shown her around yet?” Claude asked.

“Nope. I was gonna show her my room first, though, so I can put her bags down in there.”

“Oh, good idea.” The brunette remarked, taking the opportunity to snag Marinette’s bags from Allegra’s hands. “Let’s go! You’re gonna love it, Mari.”

With everyone together- save for Felix -the group eagerly clambered down the hallway that Claude and Allan had previously been in. The black railway from the staircase continued to twist down the hall next to Marinette, and when it finally stopped at a wall, Claude stopped at a doorway to his right. Glittering stickers arched across the door, spelling out the word “Allegra”.

“Those are from when I was, like, nine.” Allegra commented, a hint of a blush on her cheeks as she opened her bedroom door.

Marinette was about to say that it was fine- she actually found the lettering to be endearing -but any form of words or replies were lost on her when she saw the bedroom for the first time.

Everything was covered in light purples and white, with occasional bits of gold and light blue to accent the room. An enormous, deep purple bed with swirling, golden patterns sat in the center, holding pillows that were bigger than Marinette’s bed alone and a comfort that looked fluffier than her warmest ear-muffs. A pair of blue, see-through curtains wrapped around the bed as well, reminding her of something a princess might own.

Across the room- which was twice the size of her little attic bedroom -were two white shelves that stretched from wall to wall and floor to ceiling. They held various things such as books, notebooks, miniature glass statues, and plenty of other trinkets that struck Marinette as charming. She wondered how long it must have taken Allegra to collect such things, or if she bought them all in one go as she decorated her room. There were even a few crystal wind-chimes hanging around the room.

“This is..” Marinette wasn’t sure what it was as she walked inside, star-struck. The girl even had her own chandelier, for Pete’s sake! Then there was the massive vanity with a million different types of eyeshadow- all aligned perfectly in an orderly fashion -and the massive desk on the other side of the room that had a fancy paperweight and a nice, little trinket to hold all of Allegra’s pencils and such for school. Don’t get her started on the chair hanging from the ceiling that looked equally fancy and comfortable.

“Do I really get to sleep in here?” She eventually asked instead. Words couldn’t describe her thoughts on the room or how it looked like something out of a daydream.

Allegra laughed. “Yep! We’re actually going to be spending most of the night here.”

“After we go swimming, of course.” Claude added as he set Marinette’s bags down in the walk-in closet.

Marinette’s eyes widened at the remark. She’d almost forgotten why she came here in the first place. “Where is the swimming pool?”

“It’s downstairs.” Allegra answered. “I can’t wait for you to see it. We have a water slide and everything.”

Marinette would have gasped, but after what she’s seen so far, she wouldn’t be surprised if they had their own personal zoo. “Can we go see it?”

“Absolutely!” The blonde smiled, looping her arm with Marinette’s. “But first, we need to finish our tour.”

The group made their way out of Allegra’s room and started exploring each door they passed. Claude, Allan, and Allegra took turns explaining each room’s purpose to Marinette, and she absorbed their words as best she could. Most of the time, though, she was lost in her thoughts, completely awed by the structure of the household.

Each room appeared to be bigger than the last, and some of them had Marinette nearly falling over from the amount of money that had to have gone into the décor. There were offices and dining halls and bigger bedrooms for Allegra’s parents. Then there were game rooms with pool tables and living rooms with couches that stretched around the entire room so everyone could see each other. Vases and sculptures lined the hallways and hid in the corners while extensive family portraits littered walls and held personal places on overly huge fireplaces.

In a word, the entire mansion was extravagant, especially for a three-person family, but despite the overwhelming amount of space, Marinette could feel the warmth and familial love of each room. A multitude of memories resided in the walls, and she couldn’t wait to hear all of them.

One room in particular caught her attention the most.

“What is this place?” Marinette asked as she walked into another wide-spread room. Musical instruments of all kinds littered the area- harps, violins, cellos, pianos, guitars, mandolins, and other things she couldn’t even name. They all appeared to be in mint condition, so clean that she could see her reflection in them, and the little kid in Marinette wanted to run around and try each one of them.

“This,” Allegra said next to her, “is our music room.”

“Music room..” Marinette whispered as her hand ran over a pair of literal bongos. “Can you actually play all of these?”

Claude snorted behind them. “She definitely wishes she could.”

Allegra scoffed and smacked his arm with a playful glare.

“No, I can’t play all of them.. But I’m working on it.”

“Wow.” Marinette muttered. That had to be time consuming. Where did she find the drive to keep practicing all of these?

“..Can I touch them?”

“Oh, yeah! Touch them all. Go crazy. I can even teach you how to play a little tune for some of them if you want.”

Marinette lit up. “Can you really?”

Allegra chuckled. “Of course. We have all night, don’t we?”

Marinette had to bite her tongue to avoid squealing again, and she promptly darted off to try everything she could. Any strings and keys would be briefly plucked and pressed before being cast away for the next instrument. She would thump on the drums and blow on the tubas and, occasionally, she would stop to try a few simple tunes on an instrument that sounded especially enchanting to her.

After about thirty minutes of this heaven- there were a lot of instruments -someone knocked on the doorframe at the front of the room, gathering the group’s attention.

A man with light brown hair stood in the doorway, offering an easy, yet apologetic smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Allegra, who had been teaching Marinette how to play the Panda Drum, hopped up from her position on the floor to greet him with a hug. “Not at all! I was just showing Marinette around the house. Mari, this is my dad, Arthur. Dad, this is Marinette, my friend from school that I’ve been telling you about.”

Marinette set the drum aside and stood up as well. “It’s nice to meet you, M. Chanson.”

“Oh, please.” M. Chanson held up a dismissive hand. “Just call me Arthur. Or even Uncle Arthur, if you like.”

A soft smile spread across Marinette’s lips, and she nodded. He sounded exactly like Maman when someone new came to their house.

“Anyway, I just came by to drop off the last bit of your group. He found me in the kitchen while looking for you.” Arthur said. He then stepped to the side to reveal none other than Felix, who had apparently been standing behind him the whole time.

Marinette perked up at the sight of the blond. “Oh, Felix! You’re here!”

“Here late.” Claude added with a smirk.

Felix shot him a look. “I’m not late. I told you all that I wouldn’t quite be here at the same time as everyone else.”

“Telling us that you’re going to be late doesn’t mean that you weren’t late.” Allegra pointed out. “It just means that you were considerate about your tardiness.”

Felix narrowed his eyes at her, knowing she was correct, and Marinette pursed her lips to avoid laughing, because she also knew that Allegra was correct.

“So I see you’ve been showing her my instruments?” Arthur cut in, redirecting the conversation.

Marinette’s eyes widened. “These are your instruments?”

Arthur chuckled. “Yep. In fact, I taught Allegra everything she knows.”

“You mean you can actually play all of them?”

“Well, some better than others,” The man responded with a half shrug, “but yeah. I’m honestly a little disappointed that A didn’t come get me when she showed you the room.”

Allegra winced. “Oh, sorry, Dad. I wasn’t thinking about it.”

“That’s amazing..” Marinette remarked, dumbfounded. She couldn’t imagine having enough memory to know how each individual instrument was played.

Arthur tilted his head back and forth with a hum. “I wouldn’t say amazing. A lot of these instruments are extremely similar to how they’re played, and at some point, once you’ve learned enough, you start to realize that a lot of music has a certain order to it. When you know that order, it makes playing a lot easier.”

“Oh, don’t be modest.” Allegra scolded. “Who else can play almost all of the instruments of the world and memorize any new instruments within a week?”

Before Arthur could respond, Allegra turned to Marinette with a proud smile and continued.

“Dad’s able to combine these instruments like no one I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot. It’s like he’s memorized every string, key, or chord possible! He’s even written songs for us too. Some of them are just funny little melodies to go with Claude’s acts, but others are full songs that he performs for me and Mom. Sometimes, when Mom’s stressed, he’ll sing or play for her to help her relax. I personally think that the songs he writes then are the best ones.”

The more she talked, the more bashful Arthur became, and Marinette couldn’t help cooing at the man. The thought of someone writing songs for the person they loved and singing them when that person felt down brought a wonderful warmth to her chest. It actually reminded her of another sweet boy she knew, one with blue-tipped hair and a smile that could melt the arctic.

“I have a friend like that.” She decided to say. Why not tell the others about him too? “He has a passion for the guitar and plays songs for me when I feel down too. It’s so calming.”

Something in her tone or expression must have caught their interest, because the group’s attention shifted from Allegra to Marinette in an instant. Before she could ask about the sudden change, Claude slipped an arm around her shoulders, flashing her a sly grin.

“Oh? A friend, you say?” He drawled. “You sound pretty fond of him. What’s his name?”

An involuntary blush crept across Marinette’s cheeks, more so at the implication in Claude’s voice than anything else. After two years of hanging around Alya, with her raised eyebrows and coy smiles, she could tell when someone was trying to accuse her of certain feelings towards another.

“O-Oh. uhm.. His name is Luka.”

“Luka..” Allegra hummed. “I’ve never heard you mention his name before.”

“And I’ve never seen her blush like that before, either.” Claude teased. “You’re not being very subtle, Nette.”

Marinette felt her blush deepen, even though they both knew she was easily flustered. She’s probably blushed a million times in the month that she’s known them, and most of those blushes were definitely darker than the one she was wearing even now.

Her gaze flicked to Felix, curious as to what he thought on the matter. His expression remained neutral, though she spotted a bit of intrigue in his eyes. It didn’t help with her guilt towards the comments.

Then again, why should she feel guilty? Even if she did like Luka, that wouldn’t affect anyone here. There was no reason to be ashamed.

Nevertheless, she still wanted to slip her way out of getting teased, so she jokingly rolled her eyes and said, “You guys said we were going to go swimming, right? Felix is here, and it’s getting dark so we should probably change before it gets too late.”

“The pool is indoors.” Claude helpfully reminded. “It doesn’t matter how late it gets.”

“But that was a good try at dodging, though.” Allegra smirked.

A squeak flew from Marinette’s lips before she could stop it, and the trio shared a laugh.

“Come on, guys.” Allan lightly scolded. “If you keep messing with her like this, she might spontaneously combust.”

Another laugh tumbled from Claude’s lips before he let out a dramatic sigh. “Alright, fine. I guess we can go swimming now.”

“Marinette has to cool off, anyway.” Allegra added with a wink.

Marinette groaned and put her head in her hands, if only to hide her ever-growing blush.

Mental note: Never mention a boy to the group again, because they will probably see right through you when it’s actually serious.

Tag List: @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything @magnificentcrapposts @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx @miraculous-ninja @miraculouspenta @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @all-mights-asscheeks @ira-sairain @lookatthestars1 @dahjokester @blissful-passing @solangelo252

#felinette #Marinette #Felix Culpa #Quantic Kids #Rosemary AU #New Girl on the Block

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uwu-babygorl · 3 years

Text

These Moments (Reki Kyan)

Summary: Moments spend with Reki is always something you hold deep in your heart. Tonight is no different

Word Count: 1371

A/n: honestly not the happiest with how this is but I just wanted to write something for my baby Reki. Anyway hope you enjoy is regardless!! Enjoy loves!

~~~~~~~~~~

Nights with Reki was something that you held close to your heart. At the ‘S’ meetings sure but when it’s just the two of you…it was even better. He was always so sweet, caring, and funny for both but when it’s only you two, he was even more caring. You both would go on late night skateboarding and midnight runs to the nearest convenient store and getting as many snacks as possible before going back to his house and helping with his skateboard ideas. Yes, they are always precious to you and tonight is no different.

As of now, you’re making your way to the said boyfriend’s, of just a few months, house. You hum a soft tune that has been stuck in your head as a light breeze blew through your hair softly. Another minute passes before you make it. Smiling softly, you slow to a stop and walk to the front door and give it a knock. You hear a clatter of feet come close to the door before it is swung open and the red head himself stood there with his million-dollar smile on his face. “Hi, love bug,” he said breathlessly as he pulls inside and into a hug. You giggle as you return it, “hey baby.”

You two stay in each other’s arms for a few more seconds before he pulls back with his wide smile. "I miss you like crazy," he said excitedly with the little sparkle in his eyes. Giggling softly you rub his cheek softly, "you just saw me at school just 3 hours ago." He gave a small pout and went to speak but softer footsteps pulled you from your conversation, looking up and seeing his mother with a warm smile. “Y/n darling, it’s so good to see you. How are you doing? Are you hungry? Thirsty?” You gave a small wave, “hello Ms. Kyan, I’m doing good and no ma’am I’m fine.” She gives a nod with a smile, “ok dear just let me know and I’ll more than willing cook you something.”

Reki gave a small groan and turned to his mother, “mom, please.” She sigh but gave a small off handed wave, “ok, ok I understand. You two be good.” She turns and walks back into the living area while Reki lets out a small sigh of relief. You shake your head slowly, “Reki, she was only trying to be nice. You didn’t need to have attitude with her.”

“I know its just…she does this with literally all my friends who come over,” he replies softly while looking up into your e/c orbs. You give a small nod while tugging his arm some, “ok. So, we doing the usual tonight?”

His whole mood brightened from your question, “yes we are. No better way to spend it.” He grabs your hand and places a small kiss to the back of it, “wait here and let me grab my board.” Before you could reply, he takes off down the hall and into his room. Reki stumbles over some junk in his room as he reached his board and quickly made his way back to you. As he rushes down the hall, he sees his two little sisters, Tsukihi and Nanaka, standing by you with happy gazes as they stand close to each other. You were looking down at the two with a soft smile as the babbled nonsense to you. You look up and see Reki getting closer to you three. “Tsukihi, Nanaka, leave y/n alone please,” he says as he moves to grab your hand. The two little girls let out a whine of complaining as Reki dragged you outside. He lets out a sigh and turns to you with a nervous smile, “I’m sorry about them. They do this every time you come over.” Shaking your head softly with a smile, “no babe I absolutely love your family. It’s no problem, really.”

You drop your skateboard down and place a foot on it, “c’mon let’s go. I’ll race you there.” A competitive smirk took over Reki’s face as he does the same, “oh you are so on.” You both get in position and start a 3 second countdown. Once it reached 1, you both took off. Rolling down the hill at a fast speed and turning at every curve as you tried to stay ahead. You look over and see Reki with a bright smile as you two stay tied together all the way down. The bright lights from the convenient store comes in view so you tried to pick up speed by bending down. The harsh wind blowing through your hair and clothing as you feel the adrenaline from the speed. You hear a small holler from Reki as he catches close to you again, the store getting closer and closer with every passing second.

Reki feels himself getting lost in the moment as he turns his attention to look at you, feeling himself falling more in love with you as he watches you with a bright smile on your face. Your skin shining from the stre3tlights and the moon as it gives it a nice glow to your complexion. Seeing the way your eyes sparkle brightly and your hair flowing from the wind. He rode beside you, wondering what he did to have such an amazing person be part of his life. Being caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t realize he was slowing down till you slid to a stop with a bright smile. “looks like I win this time,” you say happily as you did a small victory dance.

He chuckles softly as he goes to a stop as well, kicking his board up and grasping hold of it. “Yeah, no. I let you win, what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I didn’t let you?’ He had a teasing tint in his voice as he walks to you. He brings his arm up to wrap it around your shoulders as you two walk in the store. The cool air of the store rushes over your body causing you to shiver some. The quiet mumble of a ‘welcome’ came from the bored looking man behind the desk as he reads through a magazine.

You and Reki say a quiet ‘hello’ before walking down the candy isle and looking for your favorite snacks. Reaching forward when you see yours and grabbing a few of your favorites and Reki doing the same as he expresses how much he loves a certain type of candy. You listening some as you pick out different types of sweets you like before making your way to the drinks and grabbing the one you want as well.

Once you have what you want, you both make your way to the cashier to pay for everything. Grumbling some as he rung up all your items and telling your total with a bored tone. You reach in your pocket to pay for your half when Reki placed the right amount on the counter. “I can pay for my st-“ you start but was cut off. “Nonsense my little cutie. What kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn’t pay,” he said with a smile.

You smile at him, “thank you.” You grab the bag and make your way out the store. The moon still shining bright outside making the town brighten. You set your board down and place a food on it as you look out a little a with a content smile.

Feeling arms wrap around you, your smile grew. “Y’know I really love you,” Reki said as he rested his chin to the top of your head as you gave you a small squeeze. You giggle as you lean back, “and I love you too. So much.”

The moment growing more lovingly and comforting as you two stood in each other’s arms. The distant sounds of cars driving, and the soft blowing wind filled the air as you stared up at the sky. The sky filled with stars after stars and the moon shining brightly. Nothing in the world would make you trade in this moment as you stood in the arms of the one you loved most.

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om-headcanon · 4 years

Text

☆ mc catching the obey me brothers crying

i believe its fair to assume mc has seen at least one of the boys cry. here is what i believe happened. (if you want me to do undateables, let me know! tw for low self worth, panic attacks, and survivors guilt/death mentions)

lucifer

without a doubt the most embarassed to be caught crying

he had just gotten into an argument with diavolo, and he questions his importance in diavolos life

he goes into the study to get some extra work done late at night to reassure himself he is useful

with all of the stress from the situation at hand and some stress from supporting the family on his back, he cant help but shed a few tears

all he wants to do is keep those around him happy and healthy... and it tears him apart when he cant

if i cant make the ones i love happy then... what can i do...

he doesnt notice your presence, as he has hands over his eyes and is breathing slowly in order to relax himself

you call out his name softly to get his attention

lucy jumps and tries wiping his eyes and playing it off as if he was never crying

you walk closer to him and he keeps inquiring if theres anything you need

you dont say anything, you just place your arms around him and hold him in a tight embrace

and he starts crying again on your shoulder... harder, this time. holding you tighter and closer in the embrace

because of his pride, its hard for him to admit what he needs the most: someone to show they care for him

mammon

mammon is the type to not cry often but when he does, its a lot

while his brothers dont really have bad intentions, the daily degradation they execute against mammon really gets to him

he can only put up his confident front for so long, and not long after a fight with asmo, it recedes

he lay on his bed sobbing heavily into a pillow to muffle the sound for nearly a full hour

his mind cant help but insist all the words his siblings tell him are true... and he wishes more than anything that you were there to tell him they werent

he looks up to the door every once in a while with blurry vision, mind convincing him theyre at the door, but you not being there makes him cry even harder

maybe they just think the same as the rest of my brothers

he hears the doorknob, but convinces himself its his mind again. ironically enough, this makes him cry even harder

except its actually you this time

you run over to his bed to sit down next to him and rub his back reassuringly, asking if hes alright

he jolts up, shocked youre actually here. he closes his mind and smiles sadly with a tear stained face

he pulls you into an embrace and whispers a soft thank you... your presence helps him more than you will ever know

you hold him for a few minutes and tell him how awesome the Great Mammon really is

leviathan

its been a long stressful day at rad, and he cant help but overthink every single action he has made

every single glance hes made, every single word hes said ... just everything

most days he would resort to playing a game or watching an anime he loves in attempt to distract himself, but other days its not that easy

he starts spiraling, thinking of not only everything hes done that day, but actions hes done in the past too

eventually hes past the point of no return, and starts having a panic attack

levi cant seem to catch his breath and with the thoughts still rushing through his head at full speed, he cant attempt to calm himself down

he envies those who dont feel the way he does right now because god, what he would do to not feel like this

you were just wondering why your gaming buddy hasnt come looking for you so naturally, you go to him

you knock on his door waiting for him to ask you for the entry code... but theres no response

you enter and are quite shocked to see levi shaking on his bed

this is familiar to you... whether youve had to guide a friend through a panic attack or have been through one yourself, you know what to do

you reassure him this will all pass and knowing how hard school is for him, you tell him he did well today

you get him to regulate his breathing and gain some composure

hes embarassed you had to see him like that... but he lets you know hes so thankful that you came to help him

satan

he just wants to be his own person but with how his life was set for him, its almost as if thats a tall order

its very rare he cries from happiness or anything like that, but sometimes he gets so sad that he gets angry... and then he cries a lot

no one dares to go near him like that

and that hurts him too... that nobody could or would ever dare to console him because they fear what hed do to them

he acknowledges this is a justified fear as he is after all the representation of wrath itself, but it still hurts nonetheless

belphie decided to poke fun and tease satan reminding him of how hes lucifers shadow

he didnt take it well... and retreated to his room to handle his emotions

he knew his family didnt want anything to do with him while he was angry... and that made him feel like a burden

but he grew used to everyone expecting he handle his emotions himself even if every once in a while he desired some reassurance

satan sat in a corner of his room crying to himself waiting for this to pass because he didnt believe anyone else would care to check on him

but you were curious as to why he wasnt in his usual 4 pm reading spot, so you decided to check his room

he was just sat completely still staring into the distance while tears fell down his face

he didnt even notice your presence until you sat down next to him

you didnt want to pry, so you just asked if he wanted to talk about it

he shook his head, laid on your shoulder, and just said “this is all i need”

asmodeus

ahh... while self love is so easy for him, self value isnt

its easy for him to believe people want to be around him solely with lustful intent rather than because they genuinely love him

he doesnt really believe anyone could ever love him

so he overcompensates through self love because he believes hes the only person who could ever love him

hes great at hiding it but sometimes, this gets to him... especially after some quick encounters with others at the fall

he thinks maybe there is no depth to him.. maybe i really am just a pretty face and nothing else

asmo cries pretty often, but he only lets people see him cry when its over something material (ie, he couldnt get a new bag hes been wanting for weeks)

he cries quietly too in effort to make sure nobody sees him

he seemed to have forgetten that you two were planning to go shopping today so you went to his room to see if he was ready

you werent expecting to see him rolled over in bed softly crying to himself

you startled him when you said his name

“oh, mc, i didnt see you there!” he chuckles lightly to himself in effort to change the mood of the atmosphere as he wipes his eyes

you ask if hes okay and his sad smile falls slightly

he asks you if you genuinely think he could ever be lovable

your heart breaks a little knowing that he even has a moment of self doubt, but you reassure him that hes a lovable person inside and out

you hug him tightly while another tear falls down his face

you two decide shopping is best for another day... for now, you just want to talk and do facials

beelzebub

beel loves his family a lot

more than he loves food (also a lot)

he hates conflict between them and would do absolutely anything to avoid it

what he hates the most about himself is how hungry he gets... hes aware its poorly timed but theres really nothing he can do about it

but the feeling hes being an inconvenience to those he loves hurts him

beel is great at smiling as often as possible, but if theres any tension between the family, he wont stop crying until its resolved

once he was so hungry it wasnt possible to control himself and he ended up going on a rampage

he earned scolds from lucifer, mammon, and satan for this

it tore him apart knowing that he had caused his family trouble for even a second and he started crying because of the guilt

he couldnt even find enough energy to make it back to his room, so he just sat in the kitchen with tears on his face

you had decided to go to the kitchen to get a snack when you saw him

he apologized for being in the kitchen and offered to move if you wanted his seat, but you declined

beel didnt even bother wiping the tears from his eyes... he wore them like they were a punishment for his own behavior

when you asked him what was wrong, all he said was that he was a bad brother

you tried to tell him otherwise, but then he went into detail about the situation and how all he does is cause the family distress

you told him that isnt true at all and he continues to bring light and happiness to all those around him

hearing that his brothers will come around and know he meant no harm is all he needed to hear

“thank you, mc... i feel less hungry when im with you”

belphie

he has lots of survivors guilt

its been millenia but he still wishes that it was him instead of lilith

because of this he cries quite often, but never in front of anyone other than beel

this feeling that lilith and him should have traded places haunts him often, and its not always so easy to sleep it off

as fore mentioned, he usually finds comfort in talking to his older twin but beel isnt always there

beel was at one of his clubs at rad and belphie didnt want to bother him, but he really did need someone right now

unlike his older brothers, belphie actually makes an effort to find you

he doesnt find you in your room nor the kitchen, so he continues to search around the house in hopes youre around here somewhere

he happens to find you by yourself in the study on your d.d.d.

belphie feels bad bothering you, and enters the room quite quietly

“mc, can we talk?”

he sits down next to you and lays his head on your shoulder

contrary to what he stated he wanted, not much talking is being done

he just lies there quietly crying with no explanation why

he realises he may not be as ready to talk about it as he thought... but thats okay

you tell him that youre going to listen whenever hes ready to talk about it

that makes him feel a lot better

he falls asleep right there with a thankful smile placed on his face

#satans was lowk the hardest to write #i hope i wrote them all well tho >:#also some of these are .. quite long o_o #my apologies #obey me headcanon #obey me #belphie headcanon #beel headcanon #satan headcanon #mammon headcanon #lucifer headcanon #levi headcanon #asmo headcanon

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negasonicimagines · 3 years

Text

Revelation; Part One

warnings/kinks: a/b/o (if you’re penis-repulsed this isn’t for you), smut (duh), brief daddy kink, even briefer mommy kink, cum-eating, cum-marking, cockwarming? (does it count if it’s a/b/o?), light bloodplay, borderline somniphilia (consensual), poisoning, suicidal ideation, allusions to cheating, mentions of conversion therapy, vague mentions of s*xual ass*ult (it doesn’t actually happen in the story, it’s just referred to a lot due to the nature of this universe)

uh… this is another one of those stories that’s just kinda Heavy, please be careful & don’t continue reading if doing so is unsafe for you. I have a variety of other works that don’t have such intense themes, which you can find on my masterlist!

request (+details): Omegaverse: Alphas Yukio and Ellie with a beta reader, but it turns out that reader is a late-bloomer omega who goes into her first heat unexpectedly. / Omegaverse: The setting could be anywhere. The three of them waking up with reader burning hot, believing to be sick but is actually going into heat. The reader could be by themselves when it happens and her alphas come home to a omega in heat / I can’t get this omegaverse idea out of my head, and I hope you don’t mind me telling you this. Reader being alone and confused when her heat came, her alphas gone on a mission. During the time they were gone, Reader made a nest of her alphas’s clothes out of instinct on their bed. By the time Yukio and Ellie returned, Reader is a hot mess from trying to get off, moaning their names and begging for her alphas to help her for she don’t know why she feels like this and is scared.)

synopsis: After Wade discovers you're dealing with suicidal thoughts, he takes it upon himself to help you out, leading to one disaster after another.

author’s note: thank you so much to the lovely anon who requested this for spending so much time with me & making sure everything was juuuust right! Fun fact: we pined, started dating, and broke up, started dating again, and broke up again all before this was published 🙃 sorry everybody, it’s been a rocky road for the past… forever.

Standing guard after school for a few extra bucks is a pretty sweet deal, you have to admit. You mostly just sit around with a pair of binoculars munching on your snack of choice, using a gun loaded with tranquilizer darts to drop anyone who threatens the safety of the school and its residents. If given permission, or an order to do so, you can use your bow and arrow to really take down your enemies.

You’re pretty lucky in life overall, you also have to admit, with two alpha girlfriends and a variety of friends and acquaintances, not to mention the advantages your mutation gives you.

It makes you feel even more guilty for what you’re really thinking about right now. Not Ellie, not Yukio, not keeping an eye out for threats, nothing but a simple question:

Would it be more efficient to slit your wrists with the point of one of your arrows, or to fling yourself from the top of this turret? Which would hurt worse? You look from the sharp arrow you hold in your hand to the plush grass below, managed by some of the other students.

It’s far cheaper to pay students to maintain the yard and house, not to mention it gives students like you a way of earning the kind of spending money that other students receive from their parents or from jobs in town. Your post would be snatched up in no time if you were to pass.

Speaking of parents.

Your father’s exact words to your mother were “I hate that you use a highschool mistake to keep me trapped with you forever!” the last time you happened to hear them argue. They were no longer invited to parent-teacher conferences after that.

It’s a fine reason for him to be angry, but, unfortunately, you’re the highschool mistake he was talking about. The one he’s always talking about whenever they fight. Maybe if you were gone, he’d finally be free. Maybe you’d finally be free from his resentment. He, fortunately enough, rarely lashes out at you directly; however… There’s always been a distance.

Would he love you more if you were gone? If you saved him from… Well, you? You’ve always wanted him to love you, to look at you with something other than anger or resentment. Would he finally be proud of you, for owning up to every horrible thing you are and have done by paying the ultimate price? Would everyone?

You’re holding the bladed tip of the arrow right against your wrist, almost like a normal person might hold a bracelet to their wrist -- trying it on for size, without really thinking about it.

Suddenly, though, Wade’s here. And he’s definitely thinking about it. He yanks the arrow out of your hand, accidentally snapping the wood that makes up its length.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I- Uh, I don’t know,” you mumble, embarrassed, because you honestly don’t. Being alone with your thoughts gives them the space to grow from their poisoned roots into something dark you don’t really recognize as yours.

“You- You don’t know?!” Wade questions, and the unusual severity of his tone stuns you to the point of laughter. “This isn’t fucking funny, what the hell is wrong with you? Why were you-?! What were you-?! What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I’m standing guard. What the fuck are you doing?” you echo dryly, resorting to quips to avoid telling him any more than he already knows.

“I’m freaking out! I can’t kill you for apparently wanting to kill you, so that’s all I can do! I thought you were on antidepressants!”

“I am. Have been for years. They don’t cure depression, they make it easier to manage.”

“Apparently fucking not! Come on, let’s go talk to somebody and get you an appointment with a psychiatrist. You’ve been on the same prescription all these years, right? Maybe you just need your dosage upped.” Wade’s not asking, he’s telling, his hand wrapped around your bicep to pull you along, although his grip isn’t as tight as you’d expect for a man of his stature, let alone an alpha.

Why does he care so much? He’s always so gentle, even when you piss him off like this. Tears well up in your eyes but you blink hard. You know he’s been through worse. That most people here have. You have no right to cry.

Wade yells at a surprised Charles Xavier until an appointment is set up, which goes pretty well. Four days after that incident, you meet with the psychiatrist who agrees that upping your dosage is the smartest decision, frankly, she’s surprised it wasn’t done sooner. And, after about a week of your new dosage level, you’re feeling better than ever.

Way better.

“You… You’d really wanna do that? For everyone to know I’m yours?”

Ellie nods, cheeks darkened. You’re straddling her, and the two of you have been trading heated kisses with Yukio. Who would’ve thought more of the medication you were sure killed your libido before you could even develop one would be what rescued it?

“Of course we would. I know you don’t like to stereotype, but some of the stereotypes have truth to them. We’re… Territorial,” Yukio reminds you.

“I’m… A beta,” you remind her in a teasing echo of her tone.

“Our beta,” Ellie cuts back in. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Even if I’d rather not let you guys, y’know…” Your hand rubs at the space between your neck and your shoulder - where they’d likely mark you with their teeth - nervously. “...today? Or go farther than what we’re doing right now?”

“Of course, baby! The fact that you’ve even done this much…” Yukio trails off, looking over you. Your lips are swollen and still slightly parted as you continue to pant a little. The top few buttons of your (well, borrowed from Ellie) flannel are undone.

“We’re so grateful, and so proud of you,” Ellie continues, drawing your attention back to her. “We’re willing to wait as long as you need, even if that waiting only ends because you’ve decided that being with us like that isn’t something you want.”

“I do. I always have, I just… I don’t know.”

“The feeling’s still there, in your stomach, right?” Yukio wonders.

“Yeah, a little. It’s like… I know it’s not wrong, but something doesn’t feel quite right. Maybe I should just try to ignore it, I mean, you two have needs-”

“Hey. You know better than that, Y/N. We don’t, okay, babe? Not like that. We wanna have sex with you, not- Not hurt you. You understand that, right?” Ellie reassures you.

“I do, I just feel bad for being such a- I don’t know, a tease?”

“We love you. As in, you. If you forced yourself to do something you didn’t want to, just for us, how would we forgive ourselves?” Yukio says what she’s said a million times, but every time it surprises you. You tend to see yourself as only being valuable in what you can offer others— protection, a laugh, some good advice every now and then —you never expect anyone to care for you outside of that. But here they are. Absolutely perfect.

And you were thinking of flinging yourself off a tower a couple weeks ago. Should you tell them? They just think you went for an overdue checkup, which is technically the case. You don’t know what’s worse, hiding it or telling them. You’ll have to talk to Wade, he’s good at giving advice. Might not be good advice, but he’s definitely good at giving it.

“Everything okay, sharpshooter?” Ellie hands gently squeeze your hips to get your attention.

You blink back out of your thoughts, smiling a little and blushing at the nickname.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry, I just zoned out. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

“Everything okay?” your alphas ask, again, in unison. Your alphas. They probably couldn’t handle it if you had a problem they couldn’t solve, the guilt of not being able to provide for you would overwhelm them.

“Yeah, totally,” you reply, because it is, now, especially here with them. Ellie starts to button up your flannel.

“Oh, we don’t have to-”

Ellie gives you a pointed look, then looks down at her crotch, then back up at you. Your blush deepens.

“Yeah, I’m guessing a cold shower’s in order,” Yukio agrees. “El, you can go first.”

“We can’t go together?” Ellie asks.

“Well, I don’t wanna leave Y/N alone. Our brave little beta did a lot more than usual. Don’t want you to feel used, baby,” Yukio explains to you both.

“Oh, duh,” Ellie agrees. You give her a quick smooch on the forehead before dismounting her and allowing yourself to be pulled into Yukio’s arms. Ellie grabs some clean clothes and heads off. As soon as the door shuts, Yukio giggles, and you look to her with a curious, confused expression.

“Now you’re all mine to cuddle.” Yukio gloats, kissing the top of your head. “Mm… You smell really good, babe. New shampoo?”

“Ish, yeah,” you agree, despite the fact that you started using it nearly a month ago at this point. Maybe the body heat you built up from the makeout session made it smell stronger, though.

Yukio keeps sniffing you, but you don’t call her out on it. She’s a little bit quirky, sure, but there’s no need to make her feel self-conscious about it when the tickling sensation feels kinda nice. She tosses in a few soft presses of her lips against your skin, too, so it’s not like she’s the only one who benefits.

Yukio eventually stops this, though, instead requesting to scent you. You’ve told the girls before that they don’t have to ask, but they— especially Yukio —seem to prefer to. You figure it’s likely to reassure them that you not only tolerate but appreciate their alphahood.

“I love you, you know that? Not just ‘cause you make me smell like petrichor. I’m surprised Ellie doesn’t spend all day huffing your scent, I… I know I would, if I could smell it.” You didn’t mean for the sad envy to ring so clearly in your words, but it’s as sharp as a knife, cutting deep enough to make Yukio gasp softly with sympathy as she rubs your wrist against her scent gland, eyes snapping open.

“Well, next time it’s about to rain, we’ll go outside, then. Every time it’s about to rain,” Yukio insists. “Who- Who told you?”

“Wade. I was just curious. He said Ellie smells like a campfire, the scent even clings like it. He even said I smell a little weird. Most betas smell like something, but I’m just… A blank canvas.”

You feel her rumble a bit with a growl, and her arms wrap tightly around you… Protectively? You blush.

“Y-Yukio?” you nervously ask, caught off guard. Ellie’s usually more of the growling type. Yukio’s pretty good about keeping her possessiveness and any other “negative” alpha traits in check. This side of her doesn’t come out often.

“What was he doing that close to you?” she snarls protectively, and if the growl wasn’t enough to get your heart racing, that was. “Sm- Smelling you?”

“Yukes, Wade’s the same age as my parents. Honestly, he’s- He’s kinda- He’s nice to me. We’re friends. I think if he was going to hurt me, he would’ve done it by now. You two keep forgetting I’m just a beta. No one wants a piece of this pie except for you and Ellie.”

“You’d be surprised at the way some alphas… It’s sick, but they- Because betas, you know, they don’t really produce slick like omegas do, and they don’t have quite as much give, uh… So, some alphas, um, they… Just let me hold you, okay?” Yukio requests. “I can’t talk about it, it’ll make me too mad.”

“I respect that. Thank you. I, uh, I didn’t realize that at all, so thank you for helping me be even safer,” you reassure her. She’s trembling. “Do you want me to hold you, instead?”

“No, no, this will make me feel better. I just… I love you. Can you just…? Just- Just say you’re mine.” This is a request Yukio has semi-often. When she feels weak in comparison to other alphas, when she feels overshadowed by Ellie, any time she needs reassurance or is just feeling bad, she’ll probably ask. You get it, being hers (and Ellie’s, of course) makes you feel better, too.

“I’m yours, Yukio. Always yours. You make me so happy, both of you. Happier than- You make me feel so-“ You get a bit choked up. These girls, these alphas… They’re so important to you.

“Oh, no, baby, please don’t cry,” Yukio implores, watching your eyes water. You turn so that your face doesn’t just rest on her chest but is buried in it.

“It’s just that no one ever loved me before you two. No one, ever. Not my parents, not my ’friends,’ no one. I don’t know why I’ve been so emotional lately, I’m sorry.”

“No one at all?” Yukio questions, but that’s the missing puzzle piece, she realizes. You’re always treating hers and Ellie’s love for you like it’s something you have to earn, no matter how much they insist being yourself is enough. She fully grasps now that it’s never been enough before.

She holds you even tighter.

“Mm-mm,” you confirm, shaking your head a little. “You and Ellie just mean the whole world to me. And- And… Wade’s my friend, too. Can I still, y’know, spend time with him?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I just- He’s a nice guy, but… I don’t want him to put you in danger. You can handle yourself, though. Can’t you, sharpshooter?” Her fingers trickle up your ribs as she says the nickname, making you giggle and squirm.

“Absolutely, but it is nice to have two strong, sexy alphas take care of me instead every now and then,” you admit, albeit a bit teasingly, blushing softly. You turn back so that you can see her adorable face.

“Really?” Yukio asks, but she knows.

“Really,” you agree with a smile.

“I’m yours, too. You know that, right?” Yukio checks, fiddling with your hair a bit.

“Mhm. It’s nice to hear you say it like that, though.”

“I can think of other ways you might like to hear it,” Yukio flirts.

“Yeah, you think so? Show me,” you tease back.

“I will…” Yukio trails off as she trails her finger along your jaw, tipping your head up to the perfect kissing angle and- “Eventually, little beta.”

“I- I’m taller than you,” you weakly protest.

“Your breath still hitched,” Yukio reminds you with a giggle and a gentle tap on the tip of your nose.

You stutter a little more before giving up, burying your face again and whining.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I just can’t help myself. You’re too cute,” Yukio half-heartedly apologizes, still chuckling to herself as she strokes your back.

Ellie returns from her shower, inky tendrils of hair ruffled around but with no product in.

“She’s asleep?” Ellie asks, sounding a bit disappointed, but there’s still a significant amount of fondness in her tone.

“She’s not,” you mumble back, and both girls chuckle, Yukio untangling herself from you. You can’t help but pout a little, already missing the bubblegum-haired alpha.

“I know Yukio’s your favorite, but you could at least act a little bit happy to see me,” Ellie half-jokes, and you smile, pulling (though she doesn’t give any resistance) the girl back into your bed. She holds you the same way Yukio did, but you don’t really mind the lack of variety.

“You’re both my favorite,” you argue. Ellie takes a deep breath, likely taking in the way you’re completely embraced by Yukio’s scent.

“I don’t think that’s how favorites work,” she chuckles.

“Out of all the people in the world, you two are both my favorite,” you insist. She takes the hand you have resting on her ribcage and holds it inches from her scent gland. “Please,” you say, before she can even ask. Ellie takes a whiff again.

“Did she leave anywhere untouched?” She wonders.

“N-not really,” you stutter, because now you’re thinking of where she didn’t touch you.

“Well, she’ll have to share a little, then,” Ellie says.

You hum with delight as she scents you.

“You make a new friend?” Ellie questions.

“Huh?”

“You smell… Different,” she responds, looking at you… Well, differently. “Like roses.”

“I have a new-ish shampoo?” You offer, but that just seems to intensify the look.

Your phone rings. It’s Wade. You wriggle out of Ellie’s loose hold on you, answering.

“Hey, you know how I’m your academic advisor?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Well, apparently, thwarting your suicide attempts isn’t my only job. I also have to tell you when they need you in the office, which is now.”

“Seriously?! I didn’t even throw that pencil at Richard, and even if I did, he deserved it for being such a-“

“Oh, right! Should’ve opened with the good news. Your parents are here to visit.”

“What?! That’s-“ You sigh, not wanting to alarm Ellie any more than you already have. “Okay. I’ll be there. Just give me a second to get dressed.”

“Wow, no shame at all. I salute you. Toodles!” Wade hangs up before you realize he misunderstood you.

“What’s wrong?” Ellie asks.

“Nothing, just… My parents are here.”

“Your… Parents?”

“Kind of have to have those to exist, usually,” you remark, and she snorts.

“I know- I- Well, we’ve known each other for a while, and you don’t really talk about them, so I sort of assumed…” Ellie trails off.

“Oh, um, yeah, no, they’re very alive,” you confirm with an awkward chuckle.

“Right. I’ll go get ‘Kio, and we’ll all go, okay?”

“Uh- Um- Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“My parents, they kind of… They- I love you. And I’m not ashamed of you.”

“But they’ll be ashamed of you,” Ellie understands.

“I haven’t seen them in so long, they don’t even know that I like girls, let alone that I’m dating two, or that they’re both alphas… I want you and Yukio to come with me, but, if they start to- If they’re how they are, I-“

“Give my energy to helping you instead of hurting them,” Ellie uses Piotr’s words.

“Perfect,” you agree, and Ellie smiles back, but it falters. You didn’t mean to worry her so much.

“I’ll go get Yukio. You get changed, okay?”

“Mhm,” you agree, and she heads off to the bathroom. You steal one of Ellie’s band tees and an oversized cardigan of Yukio’s for comfort, finding a pair of high-waisted bottoms to tuck the tee shirt in. You throw on a pair of sneakers, and when the girls emerge from the bathroom, you pop in to freshen up.

Once you’re done, Yukio’s caught up on the situation and the three of you make your way to the front offices.

Wade meets you outside.

“Oh em gee, Y/N, you’ll never believe it, I actually went to high school with both of your parents.”

“Uh… Cool?” You respond, because you’re not entirely sure how to.

“Yeah, uh, I get now that it’s probably not really good news that they’re here, huh? No wonder I found you doing that the other day.”

“Doing what?” Yukio and Ellie ask, though for some reason, Ellie’s is tinged with suspicion, maybe even anger.

“I- Listen, it’s not a big deal, I got my prescription updated and all that good stuff, okay?” You prime them. “I was thinking about killing myself the other day and Wade caught me.”

“Thinking?! You’re gonna call holding the fucking tip of an arrow to your wrist thinking?!”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ellie sounds as angry as Wade does, but she looks pained. This is why you didn’t tell them.

“Hey, she doesn’t need this right now,” Yukio argues, but she looks hurt, too.

“I mean, I was just considering if it would be more painful than jumping off of the turret,” you mumble, your defense embarrassingly weak.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Ellie decides, and Yukio nods. You three follow Wade to Xavier’s office. Wade breezes in, but you’re practically stuck in the doorway, nervous to look at even the backs of their heads, before they turn around.

“Y/N,” your mom says with a grin, but you know all too well how fake that is. She approaches you, pulls you into a hug, and you want nothing more than to push her away and scrub yourself clean. She doesn’t really love you. The second you speak out of turn, or make a mistake, or give her any excuse, she’ll remind you of your worth. (Or, rather, the lack thereof.)

She slips back into her seat next to your father, in front of the desk where Xavier sits, simply observing.

“It’s been so long,” your father says, but his smile is almost blatantly fake. “Your hair, it’s different.”

“Like you said, it’s been a while,” you say, giving a grimace and an awkward chuckle.

“I don’t think I like it,” he says, like he’s giving his opinion on a sculpture in an art exhibit by some long-dead artist who doesn’t care what he thinks. Like it’s something just… Objective.

“Not sure what to do about that,” you reply sheepishly.

You don’t fully realize that you’re holding Ellie’s hand until she squeezes it reassuringly, three times. A secret code. You step further in to make room for the girls.

“So, uh, I have to ask… Why the sudden visit?”

“Well, we got an e-mail about your medicine, and we wanted to come check on you. Make sure this is the right environment for you,” your mother explains.

“You weren’t sure before you stopped talking to me for two years?” You half-joke, playing dumb.

“Has it really been two years?” A normal person would be asking this rhetorically, and they’d be embarrassed. Your mother, though, is simply trying to gaslight you.

“Longer,” you assure her.

“I thought this place was supposed to provide conversion therapy,” your father says, eyeing your hand, then Ellie’s other hand. “You’re such a fucking liar,” he hisses to your mother.

“Wow, maybe my mom dying when I was young was for the best. Better than this for sure,” Wade jokes, gently elbowing your side. You chuckle, grateful for even the slightest ounce of comic relief.

“You’re even more of a freak than you were in high school.” You squeeze Ellie’s hand tight as your father’s expression darkens even further.

“Funny you should say that, considering-“

“Wade,” your mother cuts him off.

That’s weird, to say the least. You just file that away for later. You have bigger fish to fry, like surviving this visit.

“Y/N, why’d you go for a check-up at all? You barely needed the anti-depressants in the first place,” your mother wonders.

“Because it wasn’t barely. Why else would they raise the dosage?” You ask, and the expression on her face is as stupid as the question she asked.

“Don’t speak to her that way,” your father scolds, like he didn’t just call your mother a fucking liar himself. “You are so ungrateful for everything we’ve done for you, do you realize that?”

“I’m sorry, what have you done for her, exactly? Answer quickly, please,” Ellie retorts.

“El-“ you start, but realize this isn’t anger, but advocacy.

“Well, we sheltered and fed her for over a decade,” your father remarks, smirking like he’s won.

“That’s your job!” Wade argues.

“Mr. and Mrs. L/N… I politely asked that you refrain from visiting the campus, and while I appreciate your concern for Y/N’s well-being, I must ask that you remain respectful of her, her fellow students, and my staff. Causing unnecessary conflict is exactly the reason you were almost banned when you last visited,” Professor Xavier finally speaks.

“Almost banned?!” Wade wheezes.

“Yeah,” you sigh, and Wade’s laughter immediately ceases. “I was cheating in school, according to- To Dad.” The word is poison in your mouth.

“Come on, we all know you’re not smart enough to get those grades on your own. Probably screwing some teacher, just like Mom.”

“That’s enough,” Ellie snarls, eyes glowing orange.

“I never screwed a teacher!” Your mother protests at the same time.

“Oh, that’s right, you just blew Mr. Morin. My bad. Wow, Y/N, you really must be something special for all these alphas to be fawning over you. Maybe I did fuck up once or twice, after all, I’ve heard daddy issues-“

“Well, you visited! Now get the fuck out,” Wade chirps.

“Mr. L/N, must I repeat myself? I know you and Mrs. L/N were interested in a tour. Perhaps a less crowded area would help ease your minds,” Xavier reminds you all of his presence once more.

“That sounds like a great idea,” your father agrees.

“I’m starting to get a bit of a headache, maybe you could show us your room first and I could lie down for a bit in there?”

“I-“ You look to the girls, not wanting them to have to deal with her alone.

“Actually, Miss Phimister and Miss Kitsuna would be perfect additions to a rescue team. The orphanage your friend Russell came from was actually part of a network for mutant trafficking, and we found another hub in Maine. The jet takes off in fifteen minutes, and you two will be back in time for dinner. Better get ready and briefed.”

“But-“ Yukio starts, looking to you.

“Go, be superheroes,” you tell them, and they head out. “Uh, how about we swing by the library first, to give them time to change, and then to our room?”

“You share a room with them? Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“We were roommates before we started dating,” you correct him.

“Dating… Aw, I bet you really think that’s what it is, too. Having parents in a sham of a marriage really did a number on you, huh?” Your father condescends.

“You know, it’s pretty fucked up how fixated you are on her sexuality. Do you like to picture it, you goddamn creep?” Wade defends you, and your skin crawls. You’d never thought of it that way before.

“Let’s just get that tour started, ‘kay?” You squeak. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner they’ll be on their way, hopefully.

“Good idea, Y/N,” Wade says. “Come on, Textbook, let’s go.”

“You didn’t just call me-“

“Oh, but I did, Textbook. Hey, Y/N, did you know that was your dad’s nickname in highschool? ‘Cause he was so fuckin’ easy to shove in a locker.”

You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to laugh and failing.

“Just show us the library already, Y/N,” your mother says, pinching the bridge of her nose.

You take your parents to the library, as requested. Wade keeps pace with you while your parents fall back. You can’t hear their exact words, but you know your parents are bickering.

“You never said it was this bad.”

“It’s not that bad. It’s definitely been worse,” you admit, busying your eyes with the paintings that line the walls so that you don’t have to meet Wade’s gaze. You might just cry if you do; you can feel the sympathy radiating off of him.

In these past few months, Wade’s been more of a father than your dad, even more of a mother than your mom, but for some reason that doesn’t make you feel more justified in how you feel about your parents. In fact, it just makes you feel worse, and even if you’ve never actually expressed it, you’re still ashamed of the fact that you wish Wade was your father instead. He actually cares, while your parents are simply legally obligated.

From the day you met, Wade’s always been there for you. If you were to tell your parents what you almost did the other day, they’d just call you attention-seeking and insult you in other ways. All they’d do is make you want to try again.

You and Wade stop at the entrance to the library and wait for your parents to catch up. They do, and you open the double doors to reveal the room.

“It’s like Beauty and the Beast,” your mother gapes.

“I thought so, too,” you agree, attempting a smile, but your parents just ignore you, wandering around the large room. Your mother excuses herself after a few minutes of spinning, saying that the dizziness is making her headache worse.

“All these books and you’re still… The way you are,” your father comments, looking at you with such disdain.

“Winner of the science fair with her loving partners, three years in a row?” Wade questions. “Oh, or maybe you’re talking about the fact that she’s a published poet. How embarrassing for you, I’m sure.”

“Wade,” you protest under your breath, embarrassed. They don’t even know that stuff. After middle school, you stopped telling them about your accomplishments. You figured out that all they’d do is ruin them for you.

“No, no, trust me. It’s more about the fact that she’s slutting around with alphas and won’t even save us the embarrassment of them being girls,” you father spats.

“That’s enough,” Wade snarls.

“Oh, that’s right, we can’t forget that she’s yours, too. I guess anything with a dick is daddy considering I was too busy putting food on the table to play dollies,” he remarks, and you suddenly feel light-headed.

“Seriously, Textbook, I really don’t want to hurt you, especially not in front of Y/N, but I fucking will if you make me.”

“Just go,” you urge Wade, starting to feel a bit dizzy, surely from the stress. You brace yourself on him, disguising it as a touch meant to comfort him. He looks concerned as the edges of your vision start to darken a little.“I- What you’re doing, I appreciate it, but-“

“You appreciate it? You appreciate him disrespecting me, disrespecting our family?!”

“Our family?!” You finally snap. “All I ever wanted was for you to love me, and you couldn’t do that. You just couldn’t. And now we’re a family?! No. No, you…” You start to pant, your face feeling even hotter than before. “You… I hate you,” you manage to get out before your world goes completely dark.

“Fuck yeah, Y/N! I’m so prou-“

But when Wade turns to you, you’re halfway to the ground. He catches you, though, and he catches a whiff of something… Familiar.

Lavender. It’s not just the Wilson scent, sure, but it’d be too much of a coincidence. You smell just like him. You are him, or, rather, made of him.

He’s torn between ecstatic and furious.

“Hey, can we get some help over here?” your father calls out to no one. It’s not a school day, and lots of students are out on missions. He reaches out to you for once in your life, but Wade’s now sitting on the floor, cradling you in his arms.

“No,” Wade argues. “Not yours. Mine.”

“What?” You father asks incredulously. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“She’s. Not. Yours,” Wade repeats, and the more he inhales your scent, the more out of control yet calm he feels. Like he’s in the eye of a hurricane. “My baby. Mine.”

“You’re not saying…” your father trails off as Wade gets up, still cradling you. Wade has to take you to your room; help make you a nest, now. He can smell it on you.

You’re in heat.

He gets to your room quickly, practically tossing you onto your bed. Wait… Isn’t your mom supposed to be here?

And that’s when he hears the sound of pills spilling onto the floor.

He nearly rips the bathroom door off of its hinges. Luckily, your mother spilled what Wade quickly realizes is suppressants, and not your prescription.

“You. You could’ve killed her. You are very, very lucky that my baby-“

“Our baby,” your mother corrects.

“No, you take pills, you can’t even smell her, let alone feel her like I can. It- It’s so much it fucking hurts. I’ll say it again, you’re very lucky my baby is in heat, or your arteries would be emptying in that shower. Now, go. Don’t come back.”

You groan in pain, stirring, and your mother takes Wade’s advice. Wade calls Yukio. Then Ellie. Then Yukio. Then Ellie.

“What the fuck, dude?!”

“You need to turn around. Now. I don’t have the time to explain. It’s Y/N.”

“Is she okay?” Ellie, always skeptical, asks.

“Obviously fucking not, or I wouldn’t be calling. She’s in heat.”

“But-“

“I said that I don’t have time to explain, fucking turn around! I’m on the verge of going fucking feral, Ellie. You both need to get here, now.”

“Wade, get out,” Ellie immediately demands.

“I can’t,” he admits.

“Get out! Shit, Wolverine! We need to turn around!”

“I can’t. It’s not like that I swear, it’s… I’m going fucking crazy, just one of you will do, but someone needs to get here.”

“Wade, go.”

“I would never hurt her! Come home!” Wade barks before hanging up. He returns to your room to find you’ve made a nest instinctively - thank goodness for Yukio’s affinity for pillows and blankets - and now you’re curled up in pain in the center of it.

“Wade,” you whimper. He’s scared to step closer, not sure if he’s what you want, even if you despise who you thought was your father. “What’s happening to me? Everything hurts.”

“I really don’t know how to say this, but… You’re in heat.”

“But I’m a beta,” you argue, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“That’s what we all thought. But… Remember how you didn’t smell like anything before? Uh, let me start over. When did you start on your anti-depressants?”

“I was about twelve,” you confirm, not sure what that means.

“Yeah, I think those were suppressants. That it’s always been suppressants, no matter what the bottles said. Until you got a prescription without your mother knowing. Do you understand why your mother would do that?”

You shake your head, and he approaches the bed, sitting down carefully as not to disturb your work.

“Her boyfriend around the time she got pregnant with you was a beta. We know him as Textbook,” Wade teases, before continuing: “But, what no one realizes is that he was at Niagara Falls on spring break around the time when you were conceived, and she was hanging out with her next-door neighbor the whole time. Her next-door neighbor was me.”

“Oh, so I’m your highschool mistake,” you say, connecting the dots.

“Huh?”

“Ha, well, whenever my parents- Well, I guess not my parents, but that’s beside the point, uh, whenever they argue and it gets really bad, my father- Well, not my father, but, uh-“

“Continue,” Wade urges.

“Basically, sometimes he uses ‘a mistake I made in highschool’ as code for ‘Y/N,’” you explain. “But the truth is, I’m the mistake you made in highschool.”

“You’re not a mistake,” he disagrees. “You’re- You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. Lots of things are made by accident, but that doesn’t make them mistakes! Penicillin, potato chips, Post-It notes, popsicles! They were never supposed to exist but they do and the world is much better off with them in it.”

“You really do have a lot of useless knowledge,” you realize.

“So do you, that’s why our team always wins trivia night.” Wade slips off his boots, joining you in your rearranged bed. “C’mere,” he suggests, guiding your head to his neck.

“S’really you,” you mumble, already weary, and Wade worries for what’s to come. He almost doesn’t even want to let the girls in. He could get you pain medicine, he could probably even find sedatives. Then no one would ever be able to even touch you, let alone hurt you. “Lavender. You never mentioned the lavender, just the sandalwood.”

“I didn't think you’d be impressed,” Wade admits.

“It’s relaxing,” you tell him. “It’s nice to have things in common with someone.”

“You smell like roses, too, not just lavender,” he makes sure you know.

“Yeah, but I think that’s mostly concentrated in an area I’d rather not discuss with you.”

“Well, just make sure that if you do decide to do anything more with them than cuddle, which I can gladly go through the rest of my life without knowing, bee-tee-dubs, that the girls are wearing alpha condoms, especially if one of them knots you. Standard condoms work in a pinch if it’s just for one, y’know, go, but for heats they’re basically useless because of everything I just said. If they hurt you, I will make their deaths look like accidents.”

“S’not like I can get pregnant anyway…” You mumble, embarrassed. “I’m- I’m really glad it’s you. I- I wished so many times that it was you instead of him. Ow, ugh, that one was bad,” you groan, massaging your stomach.

Meanwhile, on the jet, Ellie is furious with herself.

“Yukio, you don’t get it, I smelled her. She smelled like an omega, but I thought- I assumed she was cheating on us. That maybe she didn’t want to be with us like that was because she wanted to- I don’t know, to be on top? It seems so stupid now.”

“Hey, I noticed she smelled different, too. There were other signs we both missed, anyways. Think about how emotional she’s been lately, or how much farther we’ve been going in other ways. How clingy she’s been, too.”

“I guess I didn’t really notice it because I liked her being more open and needing us more,” Ellie admits. “She- She almost fucking killed herself. And I thought cheating was what she was hiding. I- I just-“

“You can’t beat yourself up over it,” Yukio insists. “We’re on our way back, and Wade’s there to protect her.”

Speaking of Wade being there to protect you, he continues to comfort you as the pain gets worse.

“S’too hot,” you complain, and he releases you from his hold, rising from the bed. He knows he’ll have to leave you soon, because you’re likely going to need privacy before the girls get home, but it’s hard to part from you knowing you’re in pain.

“I’m gonna get you some water, okay? And after that, I’m just gonna stand guard outside the door until your girls get here. I know there’s some stuff you need to do, and that’s only gonna get worse.”

“It’s already awful,” you admit, and he chuckles.

“Good luck, kid. I love you.”

Wade gets a case of bottled water from the school’s industrial-sized pantry, bringing it to your room and tearing it open for you before leaving once more. You take one, immediately guzzling it down.

In privacy, you take off Yukio’s cardigan and your bottoms, leaving you in Ellie’s tee shirt and your underwear. You decide to go ahead and free yourself from the constriction that is your bra, feeling a bit embarrassed that you’re not leaving much to the girls’ imagination for your first time together. You eventually decide to undress completely, wondering when the hell your girls are gonna get here.

#a/b/o #yukisonic #yukisonic x reader #yukio x reader #negasonic teenage warhead x reader #ellie phimister x reader #yukio imagine #negasonic teenage warhead imagine #ellie phimister imagine #yukio #negasonic teenage warhead #ellie phimister #x-men imagine #x-men fanfiction #sapphic x reader #sapphic imagine #wlw x reader #wlw imagine

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kikilefangirl · 3 years

Text

Old Ties

Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x Reader

(Word Count: 1629)

This was your first time back from school since Christmas, and you missed home. You had elected to stay in an apartment near campus for the summer and rarely went back.

This was your birthday weekend, and you had to see your family and old friends after going so long without. Sometimes your mom joked you were too slippery to answer the phone, let alone stay on for long. It was true, with one notable exception: your baby brother Jamal.

“Y/N!” He hollered excitedly. You laughed when you pulled up because he had a fake neck brace on as his injury of the month. And his friends were there, all grown up.

“‘Mal! It’s so good to see you.”

“What about me?” Ruby asked incredulously.

“You too, Ruby. Monsé, look at you!” You praised. Then you were one off your count.

“Where’s Cesar?”

He was the only one missing from the group. Each kid had different emotions flash across their faces. Oh. You knew the feeling.

“Well get in, we’re going to get him.” You declared. They let out a chorus of protests and excuses, but you had already started the car.

“A seat has some of my bags in it, so one of y’all sitting in the middle.” You added.

You hadn’t been home five minutes and were already on your way to him. Indirectly, of course. All three kids piled in, and you drove off after a moan from Ruby about sitting in the middle seat.

“How do you know the way there?” Jamal asked skeptically. You gave him some throwaway response and put on some lip gloss.

You knew damn well why you expertly made the short drive to Spooky’s house, but they didn’t need to know that. Sooner that you were prepared to, you pulled up and hopped out.

You never once broke your stride past Santos and hynas. You heard your car doors slam, so the others were behind you, but you pressed on without soaring them a glance.

The music blasted along with the roar of engines and laughs from partygoers and clinking bottles. Your breath caught in your throat as you headed farther back in the driveway.

There he was, sitting down smoking a blunt next to him was Cesar. Damn, the kids had gotten older.

“Never thought I’d see you here.” Oscar said, finally.

He exhaled, and stood up not two feet away from you. Plump lips, intense brown eyes, no. You were never able to turn away from him.

Oscar was still fine as hell and you were losing focus.

“I came here to get Cesar.”

Not you.

The unsaid words were heavy between the two of you. Everyone who wasn’t drunk or oblivious could see the battle of wills going on. Even Cesar looked confused, and it was technically about him.

“He goes.” Oscar started, bringing a hand to your cheek, “You stay.”

Closure, you decided, was some bullshit because after two years of heartbreak and your determination to stay away...You accepted his trade.

Jamal, of course had heart palpitations the second a yes flew out your mouth. Ruby paled at the idea, and Monsé was staring at Cesar.

As soon as they left, it gave you some peace watching the four of them go off like they used to. Oscar struggled with the worst hand he could’ve been dealt, but his brother didn’t have to go through the same. Cesar was a different kid; Cesar was still somewhat allowed to be a kid.

Oscar put out his blunt and brought you inside.

You filled your eyes at the hoots and whistles from outside as you shut the screen door and then the real one.

You and Oscar were truly alone, now.

“How long before you’re gone, again.” He lamented, pulling out two beers from the fridge.

You winced at his words.

“The weekend.” You admitted. Spooky scoffed at you as he popped the top off of either bottle. He slid one over to you as you tapped your nails on the counter.

“Got over your little cholo phase and dipped, huh.” He spat out. You slammed your hand on the counter. Your palm stung from the impact, but your anger was more pressing.

“You know good and goddamn well that wasn’t it. Do I look like some white girl who took the wrong bus and got lost!” You roared at him.

He made it seem like an easy choice for you. That it was easy leaving everyone and everything for a whole new world you’d never even really seen before.

You flared your nostrils at Oscar, mostly to keep the tears at bay.

“I told myself I wasn’t gonna do this shit, Osc. You gonna keep doing your Santo shit, and I’m supposed to what? Sit here popping out your babies so twenty years from now they supposed to do the same shit? You go down, and I don’t got nothing to stand on? No.”

You shook your head violently. No. No, no, no. You spied where he kept his good liquor and grabbed it. You guzzled as much as you could in one pass.

Oscar stood there watching you with a look you couldn’t care to decipher.

Modesty wasn’t exactly a priority between you two. You and Oscar dealt in the raw, honest truth. It was what cooled the two of you, and it was doing so now. You knew it and he knew it.

“You messing with anyone up there?” He asked. Oscar was steady in his slow, rolling voice. Never tentative, always patient.

“Nothing serious.” You admitted. There was a fling that lasted a couple weeks in May, a failed date or two, and a car hookup once. In short, no one was ever him.

“You?” You stared intently at him, searching his eyes for any hint he was holding back.

Oscar’s list of names was shorter than yours. And to your surprise, you let out a sigh of relief.

He smirked and put his hand over yours, squeezing it for reassurance.

“We’re okay.” He said and against all reason you believed him.

He leaned in closer, and pulled you into a hug.

But like the ass he was, Oscar chose a less romantic course. His breath fanned your neck, and you short circuited. You always went blank when Oscar was so close to you and he took full advantage.

You had the willpower of a goldfish.

You hopped up on the counter, the two of you exchanging hungry, passionate kisses, desperate to make up for lost time and old grievances.

...

You stayed at the house well into the night.

You sweated out your edges, smudged your makeup, and damn near limped back to your car. By the time you left, the party had gone somewhere else and the lot was quiet. Not even Cesar had returned.

You sat in your car and Oscar leaned into the window.

“Happy Birthday.” He said. You smiled and gave him a long kiss, savoring the memory of him. When you pulled away, you deflated.

“I’m going back to school on Monday.” You said softly. You drummed on the steering wheel.

“Then come back tomorrow.” He suggested. It wasn’t the same anymore. You two weren’t teenagers sneaking away during football games. His life was as real as yours, if not more. You held in the tears threatening to spill over.

“I’m sorry, Osc. That doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

The silence that came next was deafening. You stared straight ahead and let the tears stream down your face with no abandon. A gentle hand wiped them away.

“No crying. You gotta go see the world for the both of us, ‘kay.” He told you. There was no bitterness or sadness in his eyes. Just love. Love for you, for him, and for everything the two of you went through together.

You let your forehead rest on his.

“I promise.” You whispered to him. At that, Oscar stepped back and you saw him in full view.

He nodded one last time, and you pulled off into the night.

...

“Oh. My. God. Is that a hickey? That’s a hickey. You let Spooky give you that! You could be infected with all kinds of diseases that will haunt you for the rest of your life!”

Jamal’s freakout made you crack a smile. He had only seen Oscar as the Santo Spooky, Cesar’s scary ass older brother. But you had known him since you were twelve and had been with him since you were fifteen.

“We had history, it’s over now. Chill out.” You replied.

“Damn it, Y/N you know I can’t fight, why would you put me in this position!” He barked out. You smiled.

“Oh I know you can’t fight, you know being a D1 athlete and all.” You teased. You knew he’d eventually work up the nerve to tell your parents the truth, but it was fun messing with him in the meantime.

“Okay seriously, are you and Spooky gonna keep--ew, I can’t say it.” He rambled. You put your hands on his shoulders.

“Jamal, listen. I love Oscar and I always will. But we’ve outgrown each other. We grew up here, this our home, but you and I have stability and a way out that Oscar never had. Neighborhood will drag you back in and I can’t afford to do that. Grown decisions, ‘Mal.”

You plopped down on your bed, and stared at nothing. It really was over.

Jamal hugged you tightly, and you hugged him back. You hoped Cesar wouldn’t share his brother’s path. You had given up hope a long time ago that Oscar would. He couldn’t.

And it was cruel of you to hold onto him any longer, so you didn’t.

#black!reader #poc!reader #on my block #Oscar Diaz #spooky #spooky diaz #spooky diaz x reader #oscar diaz x reader #on my block fanfiction #julio macias #Oscar Diaz angst #sad ending sorry #spooky Diaz angst

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

( ROSERAIE. )

What you had - so brilliant and beautiful and bright it was almost impossible to look at head-on - was what was tearing you two apart. It was your love that would be your demise.

pairing. jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating. my take on a hanahaki!au. pretty heavy on the angst. general.

tags / warnings. mention of minor character death, breaking up, soulmates, angst, unrequited love, sick character (hanahaki), bittersweet, non-idol.

wc. 3.2k

beta reader(s). my forever queens, @hobi-gif @snackhobi! you both bring such hope and joy (hahahaha) to my life!!! and of course, the loveliest angels @joheun-saram, @pars-ley, and @ditttiii for reading through and giving me excellent feedback!

author note. this is a part of @goldenclosetnetwork‘s 23 | jungkook’s birthday project. it’s my first time writing a hanahaki au so... i have a lot of headcanons for it but i’m not sure whether it all came across in the story. 😰 eep. anyway, please enjoy and feel free to leave any feedback. i would love and appreciate it! most importantly: happy birthday, kook! 💖

Your parents were a young match. Together from the tender age of eleven, they’d shared pieces of themselves readily, trading secrets in tree houses and blanket forts. Nothing was held back - a childhood crush brought to life by playful ribbing and sugar-coated snacks. Where your mother went, so did your father; she was his light as much as he was her shadow. Two halves of a destined whole, earnest and pure. Friends first.

It made perfect sense when they shared their dreams - the same one they’d had since they could remember - and it was identical: swimming in the ocean with a faceless friend, families on their respective four and three-week long road trips. They’d recognised each other immediately, felt the click the moment they stepped off the camper van. Your father had called it cooties; your mother said butterflies.

It didn’t matter that they’d never seen each other’s faces until that moment. There was the spark. Recognition. The rest was history.

Jungkook’s parents have been soulmates since the early 2000s. His father had lost his wife - his first soulmate - exactly one year prior to their meeting. He didn’t have his recurring dream until a fortnight before he met his wife. Hadn’t expected it, either. He’d been talking about his day in his local support group (it never got easier, he’d discovered) and he’d mentioned it in passing, glossing over the details of the vivid new pictures painted against his eyelids. His second wife - his second chance - had attended after losing her son. A complete chance. Serendipitous.

It wasn’t always simple, though. The heartbreaking endings came just as often as the happy.

There were people who lost their soulmates before even meeting them. They’d never know they’d lost their first one until the next dream came - if it came. If they were lucky enough.

There were message boards and dating sites. Places people stripped themselves bare and spilt their secrets to the world. Desperate for love, they detailed their dreams and hoped that their other half was somewhere out there, reading those same words.

Some, though, never found their special someone. Life came at you fast and from all directions - or it never came at all, caught somewhere across the globe in the form of someone you’d never meet. Those were the most painful circumstances, as if fate was cheating the system. Here’s a love you know you have, but that you’ll never experience. It was terribly cruel.

(But when was life ever fair?)

There were stories about those that never found their puzzle piece and how it felt, whether it hurt. Most said it was a quiet ache, something you never really noticed until you thought too closely about it, like a scar that had healed over or a loved one gone a long time. Painful in an explicable way and only - luckily, miserably - softened by ignorance.

Others spoke about it like death, missing an integral part of themselves. It played a large part of their life, shaping and changing them with each passing day. They couldn’t fully live without their person, even if they’d never met them. It was simply the principal of the matter.

You’d never quite existed in either camp. You’d always wanted to find love but you hadn’t rushed it. You figured you’d meet your happily ever after at some point. Maybe at your work - caught between the shelves or returning an overdue book - or maybe out with your dog, walking the same route you took every day. They’d show up one day. You were sure of it.

Love had a way of surrounding you.

Your best friends - because of course the two of them would fall for each other (it was nauseating) - had found each other young too, on the grounds of the elementary school you all played on. They’d been bonded since the beginning, secrets exchanged in art class and atop monkey bars. You’d cheered them on the whole way, giddy in a way you couldn’t describe. Being around it felt like standing beneath the sun, scorching heat warming you all the way to the core. It didn’t matter that you didn’t have it for yourself (yet).

They’d come. Eventually. You felt it in your bones and later, you’d learn, in your shins.

He’d come around the corner fast as a bullet, headphones in and hood pulled over his head. You’d barely have time to avoid him, poor coordination lending itself to disaster when only one of your feet would make it out of his path of destruction.

BANG!

It was something right out of a campy romance novel. Guy goes jogging, runs headlong into his dearly beloved and nearly gives her a concussion. He feels bad for her scraped knees and falls in love with her dog. His morning runs become theirs and six weeks later, over a late night bite of contrasting gelato flavours - green tea for him, bubble gum for her - they fit the pieces together.

Jungkook’s the faceless boy you’d always dreamt of, one hand on the wheel, the other resting easily on your thigh. He was the one with the slick black AppleWatch and long fingers. You’d never imagined he’d be covered in ink, immaculate designs running the length of his forearm all the way back and across his shoulders. In fact, you’d never thought about tattoos at all.

You get your first and only one with him - intricate red looped around your wrists and over your pinkies. Your own, very real string of fate, sealed and signed forever in rouge.

He was your Prince Charming, your best friend, your bonafide soulmate. You’d done everything together - skydiving, snorkelling, silly photos atop the Eiffel Tower. He’d adapted to your distaste of onions and took them all, meticulously picking them out of stir fries and sauces until not a single sliver remained. You’d learnt to tolerate his unbearably fast driving, white-knuckled and silent when he’d tear around corners too fast in a car too low. You fit perfectly, filling all the spaces he could never, keeping him whole even when he was broken.

Your love was of fairy tales but it was better than that too. Real. Concrete. Solid.

Until it wasn’t.

The two of you had never had any other choice.

That’s what it feels like, at least. He’d done his best - tried every little thing he could’ve possibly imagined - and it’d all amounted to nothing. He’d gone through all the motions, explored every avenue, given everything he had. It wasn’t working. This thing he wanted with every fibre of his being, that he’d hoped for his whole life, just wasn’t working. It wasn’t for him.

“I’m sorry,” he cries, and he knows you know he means it. You can read it between every line of his expression, tucked among the neatly scrawled india ink in faded red, underlining the passages you’d written together. He is sorry. He’d never meant to do this to you, nor you to him. He’d wanted to give you it all - make all your hopes and dreams come true.

Sometimes, fate just had other plans.

Because what the two of you had - so brilliant and beautiful and bright it was almost impossible to look at head-on - was what was tearing you apart. It was your love that would be your demise.

And he can’t bear to hurt the one he loves.

He’d tried so hard. Really, he had. You had too, more than he ever deserved.

There was simply no other option. You’d always come up short. You weren’t the one for him - not anymore - no matter how badly you wanted to be. You weren’t the one meant for him. You’d fumble for that ledge - held so impossibly high, just barely out of reach - before falling right back to where you began. The bottom. He couldn’t stand to see you there, brought to your knees once, twice, a hundred times.

He’d lose count if not for the petals.

Little ones, at first. Tiny pieces of silk you’d found on your pillowcase, outside the shower, in your water glass. They’d been unassuming - reminders you could easily ignore.

Then they’d grown, velvet softness that made it hard to breathe, that had him rubbing soothing circles over your skin, earnest vows winding like vines around your airways. Neither of you had had any idea why it was happening. You were soulmates - bound to each other and destined since the beginning. Your love wasn’t unrequited.

“We’ll figure it out,” he’d said. Sworn. “We’ll get through this.”

Your heart had broken with each promise; his had too, differently, but in perfect tandem.

(Spring still came, steadily, with a rose garden blooming within your insides and freesias in your nose.)

It wasn’t his fault. You would never blame him, even when it was his fist that broke yours, splintered it into a million pieces that cut worse than the thorns in your lungs. You knew this was just as hard for him. He’d had to watch you wither away, even as a patchwork of flowers blossomed in the spaces he’d thought he could keep safe. He hated it - could barely take it. It kept him up all night, tears in his eyes. Even when he slept - managed it, every few days - it’d prompt him awake in a cold sweat.

If he’d known then what had changed, maybe he could’ve fixed it sooner. Maybe he could’ve saved you the heartache. (Weeks later and during a coffee break with the new girl at his startup was not how he’d expected to find his answer.)

“I love you,” you tell him, an ocean of sadness. He loves you too, more than anything, more than there are stars in the sky. He loves you with every part of himself - and yet he knows now that’s what’s causing this. He loves you, but not in the right way. Every touch he offers is wrong, leaving you bruised, broken, barely breathing. It’s a disease - a venereal infection that seeps beneath skin and bone, settling within the marrow. It changes you from the inside out, realigns your DNA until you’re mutated and miserable.

The realisation is devastating: his love causes more harm than it heals.

So he stands there now, caught in the distance between you, eyes melancholy blue. His composure is frayed, crippled beneath the weight of your circumstance. He tries to memorise your face in these last moments - the colour of your hair, the shape of your stare. How you sound in the morning - voice raspy with sleep, dust caught in your eyes. The way you hold him close and the feeling of your eyelashes against his neck in the early hours.

Jeon Jungkook doesn’t want this to end. He doesn’t want to lose you, give you - this - up but he has to. He has to, for you. To give you a chance.

Even after having so little - only five short years - you were about to lose the rest of your lives.

You pack your bags - he helps, folding your favourite sweater (one of his, in truth) alongside your toiletries and undergarments - and you prepare to do the thing that you should never have to do. You sign papers, dot I’s and cross T’s, and put all your treasured memories away into cardboard boxes to never be touched again. You label them neatly and dress tape over edges; Band-Aids meant to hold together the deepest wounds.

You’re going under by anaesthetic and he’ll be here, where he has everything he wishes he could give you. A love he doesn’t deserve, within arms he wishes were yours.

He wonders whether he’ll still feel the pull once it’s done or whether his heart will stay there, tucked somewhere beneath the dug up roots. Whether it’ll be safe, undiscovered like a long lost treasure.

It’s best this way. He tells himself that - loops it on repeat until it’s the only thing he can think. It has to be better. For you, for you, for you.

He knows he’ll carry you with him forever. Like the air in his lungs, you’ll keep him going.

He’s snapped back to the present, to the small hallway of the home you’d built together. The traces of you are gone - all the photos hidden away, your row of shoes missing from beside his. It’s strangely bare. He knows it won’t last long. She’ll be here next week.

Your hand pushes against his cheek, thumb caressing along the seam of his bottom lip, right where the freckle sits. He’s a thief - a criminal, a sinner - when he dips his head, presses back into the warmth of your palm. This isn’t for him to take but he does anyway, eagerly and with deep regret.

“I love you.” Your voice cuts through all the white noise and agony - a beacon in the night, guiding him home.

He smiles, half-hearted and weak and not even his. Every part of him screams at him to beg you not to do it, to accept him for the man he is - lost and weak and sorry. He almost drops to his knees - fights tooth and nail against his aching limbs not to - and brings a hand to yours. The red threads looped around your wrists fit perfectly together, the ends of inked rope caught around your pinkies matching when his fingers slot between yours.

Don’t do this, he pleads, without words or hope.

“I’ll love you forever,” you tell him - promise like he had you. “You’ll always be the brightest star in my sky, Jeon Jungkook.”

He almost cracks - seams near splitting, adhesive tearing from skin - when you return his smile and he can see how hard it is. You’re already broken, all the pieces of your puzzle in terrible disarray.

You’re trying, for him.

“I’m so sorry,” he answers, because that is kinder than an I love you that doesn’t mean what you need it to. Because you deserve better - you deserve it in the same way you mean it.

So he’ll let you leave and he’ll pray this isn’t the worst decision of his whole life.

“I’ll see you.”

He hopes so. He can’t bear the idea of losing you again. He doesn’t think even she could fix him if he had to.

“Be safe,” he whispers, in a voice that stutters your stare and shatters what little resolve you have left. He sees it in your eyes - all the crystallised parts of your composure turned to ash. He wishes he could be sorry. He’s not.

“I love you,” you repeat with an air of finality.

Jungkook does the same: “I’m sorry.”

You leave, ushered into the back of your mother’s tiny sedan. She helps you with your bags and your seatbelt, rubbing your shoulder carefully when baby’s breath slips past your lips and falls all over your lap. She meets his stare when she climbs into the driver’s seat. He tries to read her expression. Understanding? Resentment? Gratitude?

The car pulls away with a groan, disappearing down the tree-lined street. Jungkook stands in the doorway for far longer than he should.

He’s moved on - settled down with the girl of his dreams. Literally.

She’s nothing like you, sarcastic and stubborn with a staunch refusal to ever come second best. She laughs maybe a bit too loud, giving him shit when he orders in another car part. She’d eat an onion raw, if she could, and takes showers hot enough to slough the skin from her bones. They have a home together and in a year’s time, he thinks he’ll propose. He’s not in any rush, though, because he knows she’s his forever.

(Knows it, even though you’d once been that same shining star to him. He has to believe it won’t happen again. Life can’t screw someone twice, right? Lightning never strikes the same spot or something like that?)

Still, he tries to forget the feeling of you.

It isn’t as hard as he’d thought it would be. The love exists as it always has, just differently, in the palm of his hand and not the space behind his ribs. You’re his best friend and he is disgustingly, unbelievably lucky.

He’d gotten his second chance. Even if he’d once resented it, he had everything now.

You still go for your morning runs and he still changes your oil because you’d never learnt how to. His parents invite you for Sunday dinners; you’re gracious enough to decline them. You don’t see it as pity - you just don’t want to intrude. (It isn’t your place any longer.) You accept all the changes readily, without regret. You promise you’ll go by one day.

Your parents never speak to him. He doesn’t blame them. At the supermarket, on the street, in passing when he’s coming and they’re leaving - it’s radio silent.

It’s been six months and you haven’t dreamt at all. They’d hoped - prayed - that you’d find someone new after him, someone to treat you right. You don’t mind, you tell them. I’ll meet my special eventually, you say (again, again).

He wonders whether you resent them for it - their concern, perhaps a bit overbearing and offered with a heavy hand. If you do, you say nothing, playing along each time they suggest you meet another friend’s son, another junior at your father’s accounting firm. You don’t understand the sad way they watch you.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles one night, seated at the neighbourhood cafe you’d frequented on your first date. Your idea, because you loved coffee and, in your old words, this was your place. The start of it all, where he’d knocked you hard onto pavement and stolen your heart in the process.

You don’t remember it now. Not in the same way.

This is somewhere you come for their great matcha lattes, where you waste a few too many evenings when you just want to get out of the house. It isn’t the place he’d told you he loved you or where you’d resolved your first fight.

(It’d been stupid. He’d forgotten to pick up groceries for your first dinner with your parents. You’d been so stressed you’d snapped at him, carrying tension into the rest of the evening. He’d apologised with an almond croissant and your favourite green drink.)

It’s like a wall has gone up, splitting your heart in two. The part of you that’d once been Jungkook’s remains out of reach, caught behind a gate neither of you have the key to.

“For what?” You quip, a milk moustache presenting itself over the rim of your mug.

Jungkook shrugs. He can’t make you understand. “Y’know,” he mumbles into his red bean mochi bun. It sticks to his teeth and coats them in soft white flour. “Just— everything.” It’s not enough, either as an explanation or an apology. It falls terribly short, barely worthy of a participation trophy.

“It’s fine.” You say it every time, clockwork in response to the same apology he always gives - out of the blue and vague.

“No, but I’m—”

You level him with a glare. It might’ve hurt once but now it settles like a scolding from a sibling. He reminds himself this is how it should be, you there and him here - two parallel lines.

The guilt never goes away.

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi

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